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i2mo., cloth, uncut edges, gilt tops, with ornamental and unique 
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Here are hints and to spare by which it may best declare itself.” 
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BENJAMIN & BELL, Publishers, 

• 744 Broadway, New York. 


f 


/ 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 


Constantinople, the Isle of Pearls, and Other Poems. 
The Turk and the Greek. 

The Choice of Paris, a Romance of the Troad. 

What is Art? 

Contemporary Art in Europe. 

The Multitudinous Seas. 

Art in America. 

The Atlantic Islands. 

Our American Artists. 

The World’s Paradises. 

Troy, its Legend, Literature, and Topography. 

Cruise of the Alice May. 

Persia and the Persians. 

The Story of Persia. 

Etc., Etc., Etc. 





SEA-SPRAY 


OR 


FACTS AND FANCIES OF A YACHTSMAN 


5 


.BY 

S. G. W. BENJAMIN 



NEW YORK 
BENJAMIN & BELL 
1887 


COPYRIGHT, 1887, 

BY 

BENJAMIN & BELL. 


Pres* W. L. Mershon & Co., 
Rahway, N. J. 


TO 


THE MEMORY OF MY FRIEND 

CAPTAIN GEORGE HARDY 


A GENTLEMAN, A CHRISTIAN, AND A MARINER. 
Sans Peur et Sans Reproc he. 


NOTE. 


Of the ten papers comprised in this volume the first 
and ninth are now published for the first time. Of the 
others, the second, third and sixth appeared in the 
Century Magazine, but they have been modified and 
altered in accordance with more recent events and facts 
bearing on those subjects. The fourth paper was pub- 
lished in the New York Star, the fifth appeared in the 
Manhattan Magazine, the seventh in St. Nicholas, the 
eighth in Appleton’s Journal, and the tenth in the 
London Art Journal. Thanks are due to the publishers 
of those periodicals for permission to reproduce those 
papers in the present form. 

S. G. W. Benjamin. 


New York, July 30, 1887. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER. ' PAGE. 

I.— We Two on an Island, i 

II. — Evolution of the American Yacht, - 57 

III. — Steam Yachting in America, - • 101 

IV. — The Trans- Atlantic Railway, - - 127 

V. — What Came of a Sea Picnic, - - - 155 

VI. — A Cruise in a Pilot Boat, 181 

VII. — The Hidden Treasure, - - - - 211 

VIII. — Out of the Depths, - - 223 

IX. — A Case of Circumstantial Evidence, - - 253 

X.— Light-Houses of Old, .... *83 


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WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 






















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WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


T HE laborious sittings of a long session of Par- 
liament had proved a severe task for my 
nerves. My usual recreation, shooting black cock on 
the moors, did not appear to meet my case at this 
time, and by the advice of the physicians, I bade 
farewell to my friends and took passage in one of 
Modney Wigram’s crack iron-clippers for the south 
seas. This trip was rendered less difficult from the 
fact that I had been so unhappy as to lose my 
wife the previous year, and there was really no 
family tie to detain me in Scotland. 

The passage was attended by no important or 
unusual incidents until after we rounded Cape 
Horn. The captain was an agreeable man of some 
education, who knew how to lessen the tedium of 
the voyage, and besides a number of emigrants in 
the steerage, there were several pleasant passengers 
in the cabin. One of them was a most respectable 
emissary of the Society for the Propagation of the 
Gospel, who proposed to elevate and cultivate the 
cannibals of those benighted seas and reform their 
taste as well as their morals. For the former he car- 


2 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


ried a supply of canned meats and calicoes, for the 
latter Bibles and tracts which he intended to trans- 
late into a yet unwritten tongue. Had he been 
less young, juicy, and succulent I should have felt 
greater hope of the success of his gospel efforts 
among those unsympathetic children of nature. 

We were already beginning to count the days 
yet to elapse before our arrival at the destined 
port. The winds were favorable and the crew were 
painting and tarring alow and aloft, according to the 
custom when a ship is approaching port after a 
long voyage. It was about midnight of a breezy 
night. There was a high swell, and the sky was 
overcast ; but this is not unusual even in good 
weather at sea. The ship was booming along with 
a majestic motion ; they had just struck eight bells, 
and the watch had turned in, when the lookout on 
the bow sang out with a sharp, quick cry that 
thrilled every one to the marrow, “ Breakers 
ahead ! ” At the same instant and before the mate 
could demand “ Where away ?” the vessel arose on 
an immense roller, and as the sea passed under 
with a mighty roar and a mass of foam that half 
smothered the bow, she struck on a ledge with a 
shock that threw every one flat and carried away 
the foremast at the hounds. It was evident to the 
merest lubber that the blow was mortal, and as we 
all rushed on deck it was simply a question of how 
many seconds would elapse before she went down 
with all on board. 

The next sealifted the ship and forced her ahead, 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


3 


at the same time curling over the taffrail and 
sweeping the deck from stem to stern. Carried a 
few yards further into deeper water beyond the 
reef, the vessel broke in two under our feet and 
went down ; a shriek of terror from a hundred 
souls clove the gloom as the wild waters closed 
over the mighty fabric and her living freight. Of 
course I was engulfed with the others, but by the 
mercy of Providence I failed to become entangled 
in the wreck and soon came to the surface. Being 
a good swimmer I was able to regain my breath 
and found that I was in comparatively smooth 
water under the lee of the reef, and was being 
rapidly borne towards a low land I now discerned 
not far off. But the roar of the surf as I drew near 
the shore told me that I had still to encounter a 
great peril in riding over the last line of breakers. 
If the shore were rocky, my only hope was gone ; 
but if it should prove sandy I might get safely to 
land provided the undertow were not too violent. 
Happily I was carried to the bottom of a small 
cove where the sea rolled in creamy foam upon a 
low beach of fine white sand. My experience in 
surf bathing enabled me to extricate myself and 
once more I trod on firm land greatly exhausted 
but otherwise uninjured. 

My first impulse was to drop on my knees and 
return devout thanks to the Being who had rescued 
me from the fate which had swept all my compan- 
ions into eternity in a few short moments. But 
my next thought was one of sinking depression, of 


4 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND . 


profound dispair. Was I on an island of savages 
and cannibals, or on a mere desert rock affording 
neither companionship nor sustenance ? My 
search after health did not now appear to be a suc- 
cessful speculation. It needed little reflection 
under the circumstances for me to prefer an early 
grave amid the wild heather of my native hills to a 
life prolonged under the present conditions. 

But my wearied nature demanded repose ; while 
lying on the grass lost in these terrible reflections, 

I fell asleep. My slumbers were deep and lasted 
until the sun rising above a grove of cocoa palms, 
shone full in my eyes. As near as I could judge it 
was ten o’clock. I awoke gradually, not at first 
realizing my situation. But as the truth gradually 
dawned upon my waking senses, I sprang to my 
feet and looked around. The prospect was pleas- 
ing in itself, the elements of which it was composed 
being simple and attractive. I was on a low coral 
island of small dimensions, so far as I could judge 
from where I stood. Cocoanut groves raised here 
and there on their graceful shafts a waving canopy 
of green under which one might repose with serene 
and voluptuous satisfaction in the soft breeze that 
blew off the smiling sea. Numerous water fowls 
waded fearlessly in the lagoons, and the perpetual l-M 
surf seem to enclose the island from the surround- 
ing world by a barrier of dreamy sonorous sound. ■( 

But I found nothing agreeable in this scene at this / 
time. It was but too evident that the island was 
uninhabited, and very likelv undiscovered, as our^ 

I ’ 

. lui -3M 



WE TPVO ON AN ISLAND. 


5 


captain had expected to see no land in this quarter ; 
the ship had probably been carried out of her 
course by unknown currents. As I wandered aim- 
lessly along the beach oppressed by an appalling 
sense of solitude, I discovered no signs of the 
foundered ship except two or three bits of spars 
and a barrel of biscuit, which being only half full 
had happily floated ashore. A few paces beyond 
I came on the body of the missionary. A moment’s 
inspection showed that he was quite dead. There 
was only one consolatory circumstance about this 
incident. He had not yet retired for the night 
when the ship struck, but still dressed was reading 
his prayer-book. In the terror of the moment he 
had rushed on deck dressed and with the prayer- 
book. In this way he had been cast ashore, and I 
found him with the book clasped tightly to his 
breast with his stiff, cold, white fingers. While I, 
on the contrary, had landed with nothing on but a 
night shift, and as the clothes of the missionary 
were no longer of any use to him I felt that it 
would be a mistake not to avail myself of any pos- 
sible use they might be to me, especially in the 
event of a ship touching at the island. So far as 
the climate was concerned clothing was altogether 
unnecessary. We cannot sufficiently admire the 
merciful provision which has caused the tempera- 
ture to be soft and equable in those regions where 
the inhabitants prefer to go unclad or find no man- 
ufacturing and tailoring facilities for adorning 
nature with the latest decorative adjuncts pre- 


6 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


scribed by fashion. After stripping the person of 
the missionary of its clothes and retaining the 
prayer-book for unexpected contingencies, I laid 
the body away under a pile of rocks and leaves. 

Having performed these last sad offices, I began 
to be affected by the gnawings of thirst and hun- 
ger. The commissariat resources of the island I 
soon found were limited to pools of limpid water in 
the clefts of the rocks, turtle eggs and cocoanuts. 
There was no choice, and I at once adapted my 
stomach to the circumstances. My health had 
been so much improved by the voyage and my 
constitution was naturally possessed of such recup- 
erative power, that I felt a strong hope of survi- 
ving until rescued by a passing ship. The number 
of vessels constantly traveling the seas in the pres- 
ent age led me to entertain strong hopes that no 
such long solitude as that of Robinson Crusoe was 
in store for me. I reasoned that if I could only 
sustain my courage and hence also my health, I 
might yet see my home once more and re-enter 
the scenes of activity, amid which my energies had 
hitherto found scope. It is not to be denied, how- 
ever, that the utmost resolution was required not to 
yield and sink under the fearful calamity which i 
seemed in a moment to have consigned me to a 
horrible imprisonment, a living death. The first 
week I began to keep a calendar by marking 
the days and weeks by notches cut on a spar . 
with the knife taken out of the missionary's J 
pocket. The prayer-book I also found of the 




WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


7 


greatest consolation. By constant study of its 
well-worn pages I discovered a number* of pas- 
sages in the marriage and burial services which 
I resolved to devote myself to have altered 
and improved if I should ever be so happy as to 
see my native shores again. Many other schemes 
I also resolved in my mind, forcing myself to think 
systematically of such matters in order not to lose 
the mental energy which constituted my identity 
and gave vitality to hope. 

Thus months passed by, until I entered the sec- 
ond year of my exile. One sail only had I seen in 
that period gleaming in the blue offing, but so distant 
that my signals were of no avail. The second year 
went by in the same way, and the third year was at 
hand, when I sat one calm evening on a rock medi- 
tating on my condition. To myself I slowly repeated 
Campbell’s “ Last Man.” I was rejoiced to find 
that my memory had not yet failed and that I could 
still speak my native language without faltering- 
My thoughts then floated back to my boyhood, and 
I heard my mother once more teaching me to lisp 
my first prayer. This brought tears to my eyes, 
and I was saved. For I had seriously meditated 
! the resolution of committing suicide and thus end- 
ing my sufferings, as I hoped. But when the tears 
icame and I heard my mother’s voice again in mem- 
ory, nobler thoughts nerved my heart. I arose and 
■ shook off the fierce temptation which had well nigh 
proved my ruin, determined to wait and bear with 
resignation whatever Providence had in store forme. 


8 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


As I retired to the couch of leaves I had made 
for myself in a cave in the rocks, I noticed that a 
bank of cloud was gradually rising and obscuring 
the sea and stars. The surf was more loud and 
hollow than was its want, and the gusts sighed more 
drearily in the dark palms that on such a night 
waved like hearse plume$. A change of weather, 
a storm, perhaps, was about to sweep over the island. 
At midnight I was awakened by the violence of the 
wind tearing branches from the trees ; the surges 
beat on the shore, as if they would inundate the 
isle. The vivid and continuous sheets of lightning 
revealed a scene of devastation and horror. 

When the day broke the storm had passed. It 
had been violent but brief, and all nature was again 
serene, and solitary, I was about to add to myself ; 
but as I glanced seaward an object met my gaze 
which almost paralyzed me with amazement. I 
could scarcely believe my senses when my eyes fell 
on a ship snugly berthed in the same small inlet 
where I had beem cast away. I soon discovered 
that she was aground, having been carried in on the 
top of a high roller and left in a little over two 
fathoms of water. No signs of life being apparent 
on 'board, it was evident that the crew had either 
taken to the boats or been washed away. 

Approaching the wreck cautiously, I was about ) 
to hail her from a point of rock about one hundred 
yards off, when I discovered a woman emerge/ 
slowly from the companionway. This circumstance I 
was of a nature to produce an instant and extra-) 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


9 


ordinary effect on me. I realized as I had not 
done before that I was in no state to present 
myself to a lady ; my beard and hair were long and 
ragged, and what was worse, I had nothing on in 
the way of garments, unless a shirt completely worn 
to rags could pass for such. Fortunately she had 
not yet discovered me, being absorbed in gazing in 
the opposite direction. I dropped instantly behind 
a rock, where I took careful observations of the 
enemy through a crevice. So far as I could dis- 
tinguish she was of an uncertain age, passably good 
looking, and possessed of an agreeable figure. But 
she wore spectacles, a mark which suggested wari- 
ness in engaging her attention. After what appeared 
to be hours, I grew so chilled lying on the rock in 
the wind that I gave vent to several violent 
sneezes, which it was impossible to prevent. She 
started on hearing them, and after suspiciously 
glancing in the direction from which the sounds 
came, sniffed danger and prudently descended to 
the cabin. 

Now was my chance ; leaping to my feet I ran, 
and tumbled and scrambled .over the rocks as if 
fifty demons were after me until I reached my cave. 
There I lost no time in putting myself inside the 
black suit of an Episcopal ritualist clergyman, a stiff- 
collared-coat and vest and pantaloons to match. So 
long had I been living in vestibus naturibus that I 
seemed in these clothes to be bound in a strait- 
jacket, while the shoes pressed my feet like iron. 
But the emergency inflexibly required this sacrifice 


IO 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


of personal comfort. The missionary’s pocket comb 
I found to be comparatively useless, my hair was 
matted into such a hopeless snarl. Having com- 
pleted this elaborate toilet I straightway returned to 
the ship, full of curiosity and impatience. Strong 
in the possession of clothes, I approached with a 
whimsical mingling of diffidence and courage. I 
could not avoid congratulating myself at every step 
for the wise precaution shown in preserving the 
missionary’s clothes, for without them I should 
have been obliged to banish myself from that part 
of the island with all the alluring attractions it now 
presented. 

She was standing on the quarter-deck when I 
made my appearance, holding a small but alert 
terrier, which was leaning its fore paws on the bul- 
warks. On seeing me he set up a savage barking 
that sounded strange indeed to me who had heard 
no sound but the scream of the seabirds and the 
beat of the surf for years. The sharp barking 
startled the birds also, which flew out from the cliffs 
by hundreds. It was evident from the lady’s man- 
ner that she had not overcome her timidity while 
apparently resolved that a parley must be held. 
Her alarm at the loneliness of her position and her 
consciousness that communications must be begun, 
led her to be the first to speak when I stopped or. 
the rock nearest the ship. The burning question 
for me at this moment was, would she speak Eng- 
lish ; if not, the difficulties of the situation would be, 
greatly complicated. ; 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND . II 

It was with singular sensations, but at the same 
time with immense relief, that I heard this lady cry 
out in voluble tones, “ Don’t come a step nearer; but 
pray tell me where is the town ; I see no one else 
about here ; do go at once and get some help to 
take me ashore ; and yet stay ; I see you are a 
clergyman, I can trust you, I’m sure I can ; what 
place is this ? and is there a good hotel here where 
I can at once find retirement and rest, after this 
horrid, horrid night?” 

“ Madam,” I replied, almost startled at my own 
voice, “ there is no town here, no settlement ; this 
is but a small islet in the wide sea, and we are the 
only human beings here.” 

“ What ! you don’t mean to tell me that you are 
alone here ? ” she screamed, with wild apprehension 
in her voice. 

“ It is but too true, and perhaps it is fortunate it 
is so. For were it inhabited by savages you might 
have little cause to thank the providence which had 
driven you to this desolate spot.” 

She said nothing, but turned away with a motion 
full of despair. As I moved as if to come nearer^ 
she said beseechingly, “ Do not come aboard, sir ; 
remember, we are strangers ! ” 

“ Madam, rest assured I am a gentleman and a 
Scotchman. I was thrown on this island, perhaps, 
to be of service to you or other beings so unfortu- 
nate as to be cast away here ; and what is more, I had 
no thought of going on board. I would advise you, 
however, not to remain in the wreck. For while 


12 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


the weather is good to-day, the season is breaking 
up and at any time another storm wilder than the 
last one may dash the wreck to pieces, and your last 
hope of safety would be gone.” 

“ Perhaps that would be the best event that 
could happen to me,” she said, half to herself. 
Then she continued, “ I will think of it. I must 
trust you ; there is no alternative, unless I commit 
suicide, which is against my principles. Gentlemen 
of your cloth are famed for their tenderness and 
chivalry ; if you should belie your race and profes- 
sion, I could at least place my trust in a protecting 
Providence.” 

“ You shall not find yourself mistaken,” I sol- 
emnly replied, not disclosing for the time my real 
profession in order to hasten her landing, for I knew 
that a storm might at any time snatch from me the 
companion so singularly brought to solace my lone- 
liness. 

“ But how shall we arrange for my getting on 
shore ? There is no boat left here ; after the cap- 
tain was washed overboard the cowardly crew took 
to the boats, leaving me behind, and unless you have 
a boat you will have to swim on board. You can 
easily do so in your clothes ; it is not far.” 

Her use of the little pronoun we was encouraging 
as suggesting an acceptance of the identity of our 
interests. It showed a growing confidence. 

“ Unfortunately, I can not swim very well,” I 
replied, venturing on a little fiction justified by the 
laudable end in view ; “ it is a neglected branch of 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 13 

my education. But if you could throw one end of 
those flag halliards to the shore by weighting it 
with a marlin-spike, we can easily establish com- 
munications, and get you and your luggage safely 
on shore.” 

The lady seized the idea at once ; she had 
observed how sailors, when about to cast the lead, 
hold a coil of the line in the hand, and she in like 
manner made a coil of the halliards. Then with a 
desperate effort she threw the marlin-spike with a 
force quite sufficient to reach me. Strange to say 
it flew almost in an opposite direction. Hastily 
coiling the line again, she took another cast with a 
similar effect, while her spectacles dropped off with 
the exertion. A faint color rising to her cheek, she 
threw down the line impatiently, saying, “ I really 
don’t know what’s the matter with me this morn- 

' _ t) 

mg. 

I knew what was the reason ; no woman ever 
could throw any thing straight. But I mildly 
replied, “ It is evident, madam, that you are 
fatigued, and I think we had better try tying the 
line to your dog and let him swim ashore with it.” 

“ What, my precious darling, Fido ; he’ll be cer- 
tainly drowned.” 

“ Not the slightest fear of it, madam.” Then 
with some impatience I added, “ but supposing he 
should drown, is not your life worth more than a 
dog’s ? ” 

She looked at me with some asperity, and then 
her good sense returning, aided, perhaps, by a 


14 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


thought of her perilous situation, she proceeded to 
put my suggestion into practice. The terrier, with 
the intelligence of his breed, seemed to take alarm 
at once, and ran for the cabin. With soothing 
words the lady coaxed him to submit, and lowered 
the whining brute into the water. He frantically 
darted back and forth trying to get back on board, 
but finding this of no avail he struck out for the shore. 
It is unnecessary to go into the details by which by 
means of ropes and blocks I now succeeded in open- 
ingcommunications with the wreck and bringingthe 
lady safely to land. On stepping ashore with a 
small traveling bag she gathered her skirts about 
her with dignity, and saying with cold reserve, 
“ Good-morning, sir,” walked off in the opposite 
direction, followed by the small dog shaking the 
brine from his back as he trotted along in a manner 
indicating that he regarded me with grave suspicion. 
On the whole I was not sorry she had this haughty 
little aristocrat with her ; I dimly saw possibilities 
of his usefulness as new contingencies might arise. 

While the lady of the isle was meandering out of 
sight I hastily threw off most of my clothing and 
scrambled on board the wreck. It is a curious 
commentary on the weakness of human nature that 
my first impulse on entering the deserted cabin was 
to search for a mirror : I soon found one in a 
stateroom. But on surveying my face there I was 
covered with confusion when I realized what the 
lady must have thought of me, looking like a cross 
between a howling dervish and a buccaneer, and 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


*5 


dressed in the clerical garb of the Church of 
England at that ! My next impulse was to look 
for a comb and brush, which I found in the cap- 
tain’s stateroom, the lady having taken her toilet 
weapons with her. It was a long time before I 
could make myself presentable. But the sad wail- 
ing of the wind in the rigging and the beating of 
the slack ropes against the masts warned me not to 
linger too long about such trifles. There were 
many articles in the ship that we should need and 
no time was to be lost in landing them before the 
storms of the changing season should make it 
impossible. 

In the captain’s stateroom I found several suits of 
clothes and changes of linen that I much needed, and 
which fortunately fitted me. A spy-glass, dishes, 
knives and forks, canned meats, and a supply of 
other preserved provisions, a barrel of bread, sev- 
eral cases of wine and spirits, tea, coffee, sugar, 
cooking utensils and bedding, pen, ink, and paper, 
with numerous other articles, I speedily collected 
on the deck, and more important than all, perhaps, 
a large supply of lucifer matches, together with a 
musket and ammunition, a fishing line and hooks. 
I also found in the captain's locker a considerable 
bunch of rockets, which I seized with avidity as a 
possible means of providing for our rescue. A 
trunk was in the stateroom belonging to the lady. 
Her name was on it — Miss Juliana Oakhurst, Bos- 
ton, Mass., U. S. A. Her identity was thus re- 
vealed. Knowing how much she would require her 


1 6 WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 

luggage, I added the trunk to the collection on 
deck. With great exertion I succeeded in con- 
structing a raft out of spars, on which all of these 
articles were safely floated to land, to my inex- 
pressible joy and relief. It was now drawing 
toward evening. I was so well aware of the im- 
portance of getting every thing possible out of the 
ship that I immediately returned and flung a couple 
of sails on the raft. The growing darkness reminded 
me that we had no means for lighting after dark, 
and on searching I found a lantern, a large can of 
oil, and several bunches of candles. As I was put- 
ting the last things on the raft I heard the lady 
calling, and I soon discovered her on the rocks. 
Her visit was evidently forced by hunger. She 
reminded me that she had had nothing to eat since 
morning, and asked what were the facilities for pre- 
paring a meal. I replied that I had for years sub- 
sisted on cocoanuts and turtles’ eggs, but that I 
now hoped she would not be reduced to such fare 
for some time yet, and, perhaps, never ; that the 
provisions in the ship offered some variety for a 
long time, if managed with prudence, and that as 
soon as I could get on shore again we would pre- 
pare something to eat. 

To this she replied, “ I have found a little cave 
beyond the bluff yonder, I am going to see the 
twilight from that rock ; while I am gone you can 
place some provisions in the cave for me and any 
other conveniences you may think I shall require.” 

I took the hint, and while she walked away rap- 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


17 


idly I returned with the raft to the shore. The 
cave to which Miss Oakhurst had alluded was the 
one I had occupied ; she now appropriated it ; but 
as I had intended to place it at her disposal, the 
question of a lodging place for her was speedily 
settled. Although almost exhausted with my severe 
exertions, I carried a mattress to the cave, a bottle 
of wine, some bread and smoked tongue, to which 
I added a dish of the delicacies of the island, a 
jelly cocoanut filled with a soft sweet pulp, of which 
I had grown as fond as in former days of my native 
oatmeal. 

I could see her watch me while I was occupied 
with these details ; when I left to return to the 
beach she hastily entered the cave, and I perceived 
the lantern burning until I feel asleep on a roll of 
canvas. I was awaked in the morning by a snif- 
fling sound and a rustling in the grass. Starting up 
suddenly I discovered Fido, who ran off with a 
quick bark when I called him. A happy thought 
flashed on my mind : he could be trained to be a 
messenger between the two lonely beings so singu- 
larly cast away on this secluded isle, and kept apart 
by conditions which at once served to separate them 
and to draw them together. 

I flung the dog a bit of meat ; he looked at it 
wistfully, his tongue lolling over his chops with ill- 
concealed yearning and delight, while he hesitated, 
as if in doubt, whether he should so far compro- 
mise his position of chief friend and protector of 
his mistress as to accept bounty from me. Like all 


1 8 WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 

tempted beings, the longer he looked at the meat, 
the weaker grew his scruples. To hesitate is to be 
lost ; making a sudden dash he snatched up the 
meat and ran off with it in the direction of the 
cave. The game was now in my hands, if skilfully 
managed. 

Fido having disappeared I gave attention to the 
weather, and as I saw the great rollers now break- 
ing on the beach I heartily congratulated myself 
that I had toiled so diligently the previous day, 
for it was now impossible to venture to the wreck. 

During the day the wind and sea increased, and 
toward night the masts went by the board and the 
hull began to go to pieces. With the rising 
sea I found myself obliged to remove the 
articles I had brought on shore to a safer 
place. While I was thus occupied I noticed 
Fido returning for the rest of his meal. He 
showed a growing confidence and friendship, and 
finally allowed me to pat him on the head. Then 
he lay down and began to search out the hidden 
enemies in his fleecy hair, a common canine per- 
formance in the comfortable moments which follow 
a satisfactory meal, and a sure sign of security and 
repose. I seized the opportunity to scratch off a 
little note to my guest, Miss Oakhurst, informing 
her that I had prepared a nice breakfast of tea and 
fried ham, which was at her disposal in my little 
bivouac under the cocoanut trees. That I was 
about to start on my constitutional over the island, 
and that on my return I should put up a tent. I 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


19 


also requested her to write me for any thing she 
might require, and placed my services entirely at 
her disposal. 

Calling Fido, I succeeded after some effort in 
fastening the note to his neck, together with a 
package containing paper and pencil. Irritated 
by his novel necklace, he darted away again and 
returned to the cave. I also walked towards the 
opposite end of the island, to take my bath and 
allow the lady to eat her breakfast undisturbed by 
the presence of man. When I returned to the 
camp, I found a note for me on her trunk, which 
she had discovered and taken a number of things 
out of it. The note read as follows : “ Thanks for 
bringing my trunk on shore, and for your , other 
considerate courtesies. I prefer to occupy the 
cave instead of the tent. I shall take a walk in an 
hour and then would be obliged if you could roll 
my trunk to the cave. I will come here at sunset 
for a cup of tea, and will take breakfast here at the 
same hour in the morning." 

Thus already a certain system was arranged for 
taking our meals and for communicating with each 
other in a way entirely conformable with female 
delicacy and reserve. I spread a tent for myself 
out of the sails and spars and, during the lady’s 
absence, shaded the entrance to her cave with an 
awning. For several days things went on in this 
manner. While she was taking her meals I would 
remain in my tent or stroll over my little insular 
ki lgdom, scanning the horizon with my much 


20 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


valued prize, the spy-glass. I contrived a little 
table out of a stone slab in the grove for our meals. 
If we wished any thing of each other we left a note 
on the table. From day to day I could observe 
growing signs of confidence on her part, and, as I 
fancied and hoped, a scarcely concealed longing to 
make my nearer acquaintance as the terrible sense 
of her loneliness increased. 

One day I discovered that she had washed the 
dishes herself and had made a small table-cloth 
out of a piece of her awning. Another day she 
left a volume of Tennyson on the table with a 
note saying she knew I must need compan- 
ionship, and perhaps Tennyson, so congenial 
to cultivated minds, would aid the slow hours 
to pass. Later on I had evidence that she had 
been in my tent and with subtle feminine touches 
had sought to minister to the comfort of one on 
whom she was dependent for rescue and protection. 
Each succeeding day I felt that the unnatural state 
of solitude in which we were living was gradually 
yielding, that the barriers that kept us apart were 
feeling the impulse of an irresistible attraction and 
that matters were approaching a crisis when per- 
haps a trifling incident might precipitate a great 
change in the situation. During the interval, I am 
free to confess that I suffered intensely with the 
suspense and the dreadful aggravation of having to 
keep silent, and alone, after years of desperate soli- 
tude, when congenial society was so close at hand. 
Still I maintained perfect control over my impulses 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


21 


to intrude on the lady’s presence ; knowing full well 
that my only hope lay in disarming her reserve by 
encouraging her confidence and that every advance 
should, under the circumstances, come from her. 

The importance of a personal interview was also 
becoming evident to me at least, because of the 
growing necessity of coming to some arrangement 
regarding the stock of articles I had saved from 
the wreck. As our interest in them was mutual, I 
felt that she should be consulted, while her feminine 
tact might suggest ways for preserving and divid- 
ing the provisions that might not occur to me. In 
one of my notes I ventured to suggest a meeting 
for this purpose. She coldly replied by the usual 
paper and pencil that matters were very well as 
they were and it was therefore hardly necessary. 

I was somewhat depressed by this reply, and 
began to despair of seeing an end to this exceedingly 
inconvenient and embarrassing situation. As 
matters now lay I was really worse off in some 
important respects than before she came, for I was 
less at liberty to roam when and where I pleased 
about my dominions, and the dull apathy in which 
I had become settled had given place to a feverish 
discontent. It is the unexpected which happens. 
An unlooked for incident suddenly brought a great 
and happy turn in my fortunes. 

I was lying quietly in my tent, which now proved 
a great comfort to me, when I heard a loud scream 
and the quick, sharp bark of Fido. Both sounds 
were indicative of alarm and danger. Without a 




22 WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 

moment’s hesitation I flew towards the cave. Fido 
met me half way there, evidently coming to find 
me, and showing the greatest excitement. To my 
horror I saw Miss Oakhurst struggling in the water, 
clinging to a rock to avoid being swept out to sea. 
In an instant I was at her side and soon had the 
happiness of placing her again on firm land. Fido 
testified his joy in the most violent manner, rushing 
from one to the other and licking our hands with 
touching emotion. 

As soon as the lady could recover herself suffi- 
ciently to speak, she said that she was sitting on the 
rocks near the sea when she fell asleep. I had 
repeatedly warned her in my notes to beware of 
the sudden rising of the waves in high tides, which 
are especially dangerous in the Pacific ; she had 
not fully realized this fact, and on this occasion 
was rudely awakened by a roller which suddenly 
swept her off the rock. Happily, the wave was not 
of the height sometimes reached, and if she had been 
awake it might have been escaped. As it was, she 
was able to grasp a projecting rock and cling to it 
with desperate energy until I could come to the 
rescue. 

Her emotion of gratitude for the efforts I had 
extended in her behalf, although I had simply done 
my duty in this emergency, was so vivid that she 
could not avoid expressing it in her looks, to 
which she added, “ I trust, sir, that you will 
remain and share our simple supper with me 
this afternoon.” Then, as if abashed by the con- 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


23 


cession she had made to the situation, and inwardly 
protesting as it were against the destiny that seemed 
to insist in tightening our relations, she hastily 
withdrew to her rocky apartments. 

It is difficult to describe my own emotions as I 
contemplated the entertainment thus unexpectedly 
offered me and the entire change in my condition 
which it suggested. My long stay on the island 
without any communication with the world had led 
me to abandon hope of leaving it for years, perhaps 
forever ; it was but natural, therefore, that I should 
turn my thoughts toward ameliorating my life 
there, and should hail with rapture every aid thrown 
in my way toward the improvement of my circum- 
stances while this deplorable situation should con- 
tinue. I therefore started forth at once to explore 
rocks for shell-fish ; I also found some turtle eggs 
and selected the finest cocoanuts the palm orchard 
of the isle afforded. These I carried exultingly to 
our little open air dining quarters by the beach in 
a recess among the rocks. There I lighted a fire 
— I had an abundance of kindling wood saved from 
the fragments of the wreck washed ashore — and 
when Miss Oakhurst appeared the tea-kettle was 
singing on the beach over the oven I had built. 

It was evident at a glance that my fair guest had 
performed her toilet with as much care as the lim- 
ited arrangement of the island permitted. Although 
what the world is pleased to style passee , Miss Oak- 
hurst still bore traces of beauty, a beauty some- 
what cold and classical, as I then thought, but this 


24 


IVE r IV 0 ON AN ISLAND. 


impression might have been owing to the studied 
reserve she felt it necessary to maintain. I placed 
her at once at ease by carefully avoiding any thing 
that looked like sentiment, beginning by conven- 
iently referring to the weather, and the character- 
istics of the island, and attempting a jocose refer- 
ence to the absence of news, although I thought the 
morning paper might contain an item describing 
her late adventure. Gradually the conversation led 
to a discussion of our provisions and the importance 
of making some arrangement for properly dividing 
the rations of tea, coffee, sugar and other stores, 
matters of prime importance situated as we were. 
This conversation led Miss Oakhurst to appreciate 
more clearly the community of our interests and 
the difficulty of continuing the course of isolation 
she had pursued. She might, perhaps, not find it 
convenient to breakfast with me every day, she 
remarked, but she conceded the expediency of our 
taking one meal together each day, in order to con- 
fer on matters in which our interests were mutual. 
Supper ended, my guest prevented any offer of 
escorting her to her cave by rising abruptly and 
saying, “ I wish you good-evening, sir.” She 
walked away rapidly, attended by her faithful 
henchman, Fido, wagging his tail with self-satisfied 
content. I watched her until her form disappeared 
in the twilight. 

On the following day we met again, and our 
acquaintance made decided progress, for I dis- 
played for her inspection every thing saved from 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 25 

the wreck, and we talked for some time over the 
means best qualified to add to our comfort while 
remaining on this lonely island. In order to pass 
away the time, of which we had an abundance, 
we took a careful inventory of every thing. I 
contrived a pair of scales by which we measured 
the least amount required for every meal, and then 
weighed the sum total of the stores. By this pro- 
cess we were able to form a reasonable estimate of 
the time these stores could be depended on. By 
the closest economy we found enough of the prin- 
cipal articles to last four years if used with the utmost 
care, and making our chief dependence on the pro- 
visions that the island afforded us. Of matches 
and clothing, happily, we had a sufficiency for a 
longer period by exercising great prudence. 

In order to make the time pass less tediously we 
agreed to keep a journal, each writing in it alter- 
nately such incidents or thoughts as might be sug- 
gested from week to week. Thus matters went 
along for several days to all appearances without 
incident, but in reality full of interest and attrac- 
tion to mo and doubtless to her. The meeting of 
two souls cast together in this seemingly fortuitous 
manner was in itself an extraordinary event of 
deep moment to us, and if to this be added a con- 
geniality of temperament and thought, such an 
event would be indeed fraught with singular sig- 
nificance. And such I soon fancied to be the case. 
My own pursuits had been of a nature to draw 
forth my intellectual energies and give me interest 


26 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND . 


in matters outside of the petty, selfish routine of 
mere personal duties and pleasures. From casual 
remarks of Miss Oakhurst I was also able to gather 
that she was a woman of thought and culture, 
thoroughly self-poised, and evincing firmness in her 
manner, yet possessing sufficient personal graces 
and magnetism to efface the impression sometimes 
imparted by such traits. I could also easily per- 
ceive from the lavish tenderness she bestowed on 
her little canine companion that the intellectual 
element had not quenched the emotional side of her 
nature. I found myself showing a considerable 
degree of cordiality toward this member of our 
insular manage , whom I should have scarcely 
noticed under other circumstances. 

This community of tastes and thought tended 
gradually to produce an intelligent companionship. 
Instead of quite satisfying me, however, this only 
stimulated a warmer feeling in my heart, which I 
at first strove to suppress, as I was well aware 
that if such sentiments should meet with no 
response I should be more miserable than ever. 
Miss Oakhurst, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy 
these conversations. They relieved her sense of 
solitude, while their tone was of a nature to allay 
any uneasiness as to the growth of more intimate 
relations. 

I cannot describe the gradual development of 
our friendship as it ripened into walks by the sea- 
side, in which we discussed theories and books, our 
favorite authors, women’s rights, and other fruitful 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 27 

questions, inexhaustible because leading to nothing 
definite. By degrees we came to talk of our homes 
far away beyond the sea. One quiet evening we 
sat on the rocks, and, favored perhaps by the 
shades of twilight creeping over the deep she gave 
vent to tears as she talked of the far-off land she 
had left behind. It was the first time she had 
yielded to emotion since our acquaintance 
began. The sweet influence of the hour and the 
abandon of lovely woman in tears moved my whole 
being with a deep sympathy and a fierce intoxica- 
tion. Had I been able in that moment to analyze 
my thoughts, probably I should have found myself 
reasoning that this long suspense was becoming a 
-long despair — that it was better once for all to ter- 
minate it by knowing the best or the worst that was 
destined by her coming to me on that lonely isle. 

With strong, yet guarded emotion, I said : 
“ Miss Oakhurst, has it not occured to you that 
a way has been provided for relieving this terrible 
solitude in which you, in which both of us, have 
been thrown ? Is it possible you do not see 
my regard for you, nay, the deep love you have 
inspired in me?” As she said nothing, nor made 
any attempt to move, I continued, “ Do you not 
see how necessary you have become to me ? May 
I not hope that I have also become somewhat 
important to you ? ” 

As she seemed about to reply I hastily continued, 
“ Do not answer now ; take time to think of it, to- 
morrow, or next day, if you will. The question is 


28 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


too important for us both to be settled without 
sufficient reflection.” 

She responded slowly, “ Years ago I loved ; my 
confidence in you leads me to make this confession, 
and the fervor of your declaration seems to demand 
it. My hero died on the field of battle, and the 
fires of my heart burned out at his grave. It is not 
just to such love as yours to offer less than you 
give. I respect you, I honor you as a friend, but 
of what you speak let us say no more.” 

Although I had already been married and ought 
to have had some knowledge of the female heart, 
yet I allowed myself for the time to accept her 
statement as final and delicately refrained from 
pursuing the subject on that occasion, lest I 
should wound her feelings by causing her to 
remember too vividly the painful event to which 
she had alluded. With a few commonplace 
remarks we both arose and separated, she to her 
cave, I to my tent. 

The following day I was surprised, and I may 
add pleased, to find less reserve in her manner than 
I expected after the repulse of the previous even- 
ing. Indeed, there was a certain warmth in her 
tone which, at first, I thought was intended to show 
that she felt no change in her friendship while 
repelling a more tender feeling. But as the day 
wore on and she showed less inclination to return 
to her cave than had been her wont, I began to be 
encouraged by her lingering presence, and my 
spirits were again buoyed by hope as we started 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


29 


on our evening walk to see the moon rise over the 
sea. Fido, with instinctive concession, quietly- 
followed as if he intended not to intrude, nor by 
any unusual boisterousness to disturb the current 
of important events transpiring on the island. 

We sat down on our favorite seat facing east. 
At our feet the dying waves plashed with a silvery 
music ; over us a grove of cocoas whispered a low 
hymn in the soft sea wind. The rambling talk in 
which we had been engaged ceased by tacit con- 
sent, and we both sat silent absorbed in thought, 
doubtless on the same engrossing subject. Fido, 
with a little whine, as if he felt the exclusion he 
was suffering, leaned against her wistfully and 
sought a caress. She laid her hand on his head 
and said pleasantly, “ Poor Fido, does he feel 
lonely?” I laid my hand on her other hand and 
she did not withdraw it. 

With fast beating heart I whispered, “ Darling.” 
She looked into my eyes a moment and then with 
a half sigh arose and softly said, “ Let us go.” 

I offered her my arm and she took it, or rather 
allowed the tips of her fingers to rest there ; and 
thus with few words but much thinking we reached 
the cave where I wished her “ good-night.” 

The following morning she did not appear at 
our early meal. I breakfasted with much uneasi- 
ness, taking only a very light repast. I was so far 
able to listen to the dictates of prudence as 
to retire and leave her to breakfast alone, 
aware that the slightest indiscretion on my part 


30 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


might startle my bird away from the cage I had 
prepared for her in my heart and life. But in the 
afternoon, Fido came bounding toward the beach 
by my tent and soon the lady herself appeared. 
In a moment I joined them, and we prepared our 
dinner together, a fete champetre where love 
was present as a guest. Again we took our 
ramble at evening, arm in arm, and chatted with 
growing familiarity. It was evident that she was 
accommodating her mind to accepting the inevita- 
ble and was yielding to the decrees of destiny 
with a grace which, in this case, added sweetness 
to her fate. Edging around the subject with all 
the eagerness and deliberation of those who have 
no cause to fear interruption we gradually brought 
up the question of marriage. We were in spirit 
accepted lovers, and to such, matrimony is a nat- 
ural sequence, while the circumstances in which we 
were placed freed us from the conventionalisms 
that require a long period of courtship and woo- 
ing ; this, it is proper to add, was my argument, 
for when I spoke of marriage, she replied, “ We 
are such good friends why are we not happy as we 
are?” 

“ Yes,” I replied with slight impatience, “ that is 
all very well ; but you do not need to be told, my 
love, that to remain as we are is simply to continue 
as friends, whereas we are lovers, are we not ? 
Suppose next month a ship should arrive and take 
us off the island ; you can see what a change it 
would make in our relation. This world is suspi- 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 31 

cious and censorious ; your friends might insist on 
your rejecting me ; in fact throwing me entirely 
overboard. I cannot bear to think of it, for I ten- 
derly and truly love you for my wife till death do 
us part.” I repeated with feeling, “ I do not under- 
stand why our being rescued should separate us.” 

She replied, “ It ought rather to endear us more 
to each other. I am not so fickle as you imagine, 
nor so weak. But suppose I consent to what you 
are urging ; there is no clergyman here to perform 
the ceremony. To be sure you have the mission- 
ary’s black suit and prayer-book,” she continued, 
with a faint mischievous smile flickering about 
her lips, “ but I do not see how that can be of 
much help to us.” 

This was indeed a serious question which might 
have proved to be a permanent obstacle to our 
union while on the island. I said nothing for a 
moment. I was unutterably annoyed and perplexed 
by the turn affairs were taking ; until an idea 
flashed on my mind with the quickness of a meteor 
from the heavens. Taking the lady’s hand I said 
earnestly, “ Dearest, I see a way provided for us by 
the beneficent law which has enabled different 
communities to live reputably with diverse organi- 
zations and laws. You know that I am a Scotch- 
man as well as a Churchman. Now we have in 
Scotland a custom sanctioned by custom and 
law that a man and woman acknowledging each 
other as man and wife are so accepted as indis- 
solubly and undeniably as though wedded by 


3 2 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


canonical forms. As a Churchman I may pre- 
fer marriage in Church form, while as a Scotch- 
man I feel entirely justified in marrying you 
simply by public acknowledgment. The only 
difficulty in our standing up and marrying each 
other before God under the Scotch law now lies in 
the fact that you are not a Scotchwoman, but I 
am by no means certain that that would operate as 
a bar under circumstances so extraordinary as 
ours." 

She looked at me a moment with a pleasant 
smile, and then said, “ If you, as a Scotchman, are 
at liberty to contract marriage in this way, with a 
full observance of the sanctity of its obligations, 
then perhaps I enjoy a similar liberty. I came 
from the State of New York, or rather I have 
recently resided there long enough to feel justified 
in following its laws here. The law of New York 
permits the same form of marriage by simple 
acknowledgment, as does that of Scotland. Do 
you see, dear ? ” 

I did see, and I also felt that all moral obstacles 
to our union appeared removed. From despair my 
heart leaped to the heights of rapture. I threw my 
arms around her and pressed my lips to hers. 
Gently resisting, she stepped lightly back, saying, 
“ Is it not time to be going home ? ” 

“ But, darling, when shall our marriage take 
place ? ” I asked. 

She replied, “ Ask me not now, to-morrow will 
do as well ! ” 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND . 


33 


I could not avoid a sigh of disappointment, but 
yielded to her wishes. As we wended our way in 
the moonlight, I talked over the plans for the wed- 
ding, as if there could be much to arrange, there 
being no guests to be bidden, no bridesmaids, no 
cards, no trousseau, no prospective bridal tour. 
But I spoke of the forms to go through with, in 
order to give every possible validity to the solemn 
relation on which we were about to enter. Having 
at that time, like most Britons, I regret to add, a 
somewhat nebulous knowledge of the United States, 
especially regarding the autonomous character of 
the states in the regulation of their internal affairs, 
I remarked with delicious simplicity which brought 
a ringing peal of laughter to her lips, “ I under- 
stand that you came originally from Boston, and 
yet you say that it is because of a residence in New 
York that you are entitled to the right to marry me 
by simple declaration. What possible difference can 
it make, as both are cities of the same country ? ” 
“ Why, don’t you see, you poor dear, that they 
are in different states ? ” 

“ Well, what of that ? Is it not all one country, 
with Washington for its capital ? ” 

“ Yes, dear, but each state has its own laws, and 
the marriage and divorce laws are quite different, 
you know, in the various states.” 

“ How absurd, in fact how utterly impossible is 
such a state of things ! After we are married, dar- 
ling, and you become a subject of our gracious 
Queen, then you can forget ali that rubbish.” 


34 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


“ I’m sure I don’t know why,” she quickly 
replied, with a touch of stiffness in her manner, “ I 
don’t see but that you have the same sort of rub- 
bish, as you call it, in her majesty’s dominions, if I 
am rightly informed. You have free trade in Great 
Britain and a protective tariff in Canada, under the 
same crown; and a man may not marry his deceased 
wife’s sister in England, but he may lawfully do so 
in Australia. And as for being a subject of Queen 
Victoria, much as I respect her, I am queen on this 
island, and here and everywhere a Yankee.” 

I found I was treading on dangerous ground fof 
a man who had on hand the winning of such a 
capricious treasure as a lady’s heart. Her allusion 
to the question of a deceased wife’s sister made me 
wince, for it was a point on which I was especially 
sensitive, so I hastily replied, “ Oh, of course, dar- 
ling, I was only joking ; I sincerely beg your par- 
don for such unseasonable attempts at humor. As 
for the matter relating to marrying a deceased 
wife’s sister, I quite agree with you that it is indeed 
a sad business, altogether disgraceful to our gov- 
ernment ; early and late have I exerted myself to 
have the present colonial laws abolished relating to 
this question, in order that there may be entire uni- 
formity throughout the British Empire. No sub- 
ject of our gracious Queen should be permitted to 
offer homage to her after transgressing the laws of 
God and the weal of society by marrying the sister 
of his deceased partner.” I found myself forget- 
ting that I was not once more in Parliament 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


35 


addressing the Commons on a subject in the dis- 
cussion of which I flattered myself that I had won 
distinction. “ Yes, Miss Oakhurst — ” 

I felt her arm tremble, and looking into her 
face, I saw a demure smile in her eyes, by the 
moonlight. “ What is it that amuses you, darling ? ” 
I inquired, slightly nettled. 

* Oh, nothing much, dear, except that my name 
is not Oakhurst.” 

“Not Oakhurst! great heavens! what is it 
then ? ” I asked, bristling with all the natural hor- 
ror of a true Briton when he thinks he has been 
deceived, and especially when he fancies that the 
identity of the person with whom he has held 
friendly relations, and that too, without an intro- 
duction, has been deliberately misrepresented. 
“ Who, who then are you, Miss, Miss — if I may 
have the boldness to inquire ? ” 

“ My name is Virginia Dennison.” 

“ Indeed ! how is it then that you gave me to 
understand that your name was Oakhurst, Juliana 
Oakhurst ? ” 

“ I never told you so, sir.” 

“ I am sure — ” and then I stopped with a flush in 
my cheeks, conscious that I was not furthering my 
matrimonial prospects by the turn the conversation 
was taking. While the lady, with admirable sang- 
froid, continued, “ I will tell you how you got the 
impression as to my name ; it was from the name 
written on my trunk. You must know that as I was 
about to sail my own trunk was unexpectedly 


36 WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 

broken, and, there being no time before the sailing 
of the ship to obtain another one, I took that of a 
friend of mine, a charming girl whom I should so 
like to introduce to your acquaintance, if you would 
only permit me.” 

I did not think fit to notice the touch of irony at 
the close of her remark, but preferred instead to 
seek to steal a kiss from her lips, which she pre- 
tended to resent in a manner so bewitching that I 
was fast beginning to lose my senses. She inter- 
rupted this tender interlude by confounding me 
with another statement that was qualified to drive 
me wild. “ I have something else to tell you ; you 
are for this evening my father confessor, and since 
you are so particular to know all about me, I must 
confess that my original name is not Dennison at 
all.” 

“Wha — a — a- at ! ” I cried, releasing her arms 
and facing her in the moonlight, “ Not Dennison ! ” 

“ No, and yes ; yes, and no ; Dennison is my 
adoptive name ; my name in infancy was Arabella 
Findlay. I was adopted by a wealthy widow lady 
of that name who took a fancy to me, carried me 
to America, and ” 

“ Stop, one moment please,” I gasped, with 
cold beads of perspiration starting on my brow. 
“ You say your name is Findlay; did you ever have 
a sister ? ” 

“ Yes, I did, but I have not seen her since child- 
hood.” 

“ Her name was ? ” 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


37 


“ Honora.” 

“Honora,” I screamed, “that was my dear 
deceased wife, and you, you are her sister ! ” 

We both realized what a chasm seemed to open 
between us. It was, of course, an immense relief 
to have such assurance of her family respectability; 
yet on the other hand, was not she, whom I was on 
the point of wedding, the sister of my deceased 
wife. It was evident that under the circumstances 
no good could follow by continuing our interview 
at this time, so with a quiet pressure of the hand, I 
left her at the door of her cave, and sadly and 
slowly walked back to my tent, where I passed one 
of the most miserable nights that ever fell to the 
lot of man. 

Brightly the morrow's sun dawned on the island. 
After a disturbed rest Hay half awake in a quiescent 
mood until a recollection of 'the events of the pre- 
vious evening smote me like a knife, and instantly 
I became fully aroused. I was in one of the most 
remarkable predicaments which could befall an 
intelligent and conscientious being. On the one 
hand; I could not reason myself into believing that 
I should be committing a sin in marrying the lady 
of my choice. There was not the remotest blood 
relationship between us ; we had met as strangers, 
and the attraction which drew us together sug- 
gested no twinge of conscience, nor any protest 
whatever in my nature ; while to repudiate her 
now seemed a violation of the dictates of honor 
and the truest instincts of my nature ; my whole 




38 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


soul revolted against the idea of such an event 
being possible. 

But on the other hand, my record as an advo- 
cate, nay, a violent partisan of the very law which 
forbade me to marry her, and as a fanatical member 
of the Church which sternly forbids such a union, 
stared me full in the face and caused me to blush 
at the thought of abjectly retreating from the 
strong position I had always held on this question. 
I realized now the radical difficulty that lies against 
the action of many human laws, the weakness that 
inheres in much of our legislation. I saw as never 
before that in making laws we are too liable to pro- 
ceed on Utopian lines, led by well meaning but 
impractical theorists who legislate on what might 
be, but not on things as they are : also that by fail- 
ing to put ourselves into the place of others, we lay 
down unyielding formulas for the application of the 
principles of right and wrong, without sufficiently 
regarding modifying circumstances ; by constantly 
increasing legislative enactments for regulating 
the rules of life, we really add to the burdens of exis- 
tence without gaining sufficient compensating 
advantages ; for in proportion as man is hampered 
beyond the regulations imperative for the protec- 
tion of societyj do we increase his liability to temp- 
tation, and hence his greater disregard for law and 
pari passu a greater retribution here and hereafter. 

The absurdity or inexpediency and impractica- 
bility of this law was yet further apparent to me 
now, when I reflected that I had repeatedly asso- 


t 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


39 


ciated on friendly and social terms with gentlemen 
and ladies who made no concealment of the fact 
that they were transgressing against a law which 
was upheld by all the machinery of the Church of 
England. And yet I had treated them with the 
same consideration I extended to other repu- 
table members of society. The reason was not dif- 
ficult to seek ; they were members of other Chris- 
tian ecclesiastical bodies of our colonies, who 
scorned to add this restriction to the welfare of 
society. It was evident that this was purely a 
religious and not a civil question, and yet the 
tendency of the age is clearly to make a marriage 
a civil suit. If the marriage of a deceased wife’s 
sister were actually the crime I had maintained it 
to be, how was it possible for me to recognize these 
brethren of sister churches as upright members of 
society or Christianity. The fact that I had done 
so was practically a proof that my precious theories 
on the subject were Utopian, untenable, inconsistent, 
illogical and unchristian. 

All day I reasoned thus with myself. Convinced 
that the manly course for me was to abandon a 
position which a practical test showed to be impos- 
sible, I yet hesitated to yield, owing to the pride 
that often leads a man to resist a conviction that 
he is in the wrong. Like many in such a dilemma 
I decided on a middle course ; as a Churchman I 
could not abandon what is one of the cardinal 
points to which the Anglican bishops are irrevoca- 
bly committed ; but I could become a Presbyterian, 


4o 


WE TWO ON AN /SLANT. 


a member of a sect which we generally although 
reluctantly recognize as orthodox in doctrine, 
although unsound regarding the forms of religious 
expression. A man may change his sect without 
the charge of inconsistency, but he can not evade the 
ordinances of the sect to which he actually belongs 
without being inconsistent. I could then become 
a member of one branch of the Presbyterian 
Church, all Presbyterians not being agreed on this 
tremendous question, marry my deceased wife’s 
sister, and still be consistent with my conscience. 
It is astonishing how clearly one sees when he 
escapes from the cobwebs and dust of his study 
and takes hold of practical questions in a practical 
way. If our bishops in their well ordered studies 
surrounded by smooth shaven grass plots in sleepy 
aristocratic cathedral towns ; if our professors and 
theologians who indite polemic pamphlets and 
folios in academic bowers of contemplative ease ; 
could go forth and grapple with the great questions 
of life and destiny as men in active pursuits must 
and do meet them, how many a fine-spun theory, 
how many a procrustean law would be swept away 
and forgotten like the mists before a stormy wind 
of the stormy sea. 

At the same time I would not be understood as 
passing sweeping condemnation against organiza- 
tions and sects. On the contrary, so long as it is 
difficult or impossible to have one law, one religion, 
one society, suited to all the contingencies of life 
or to all the types and characters of our race, such 


WE TWO OAT AN ISLAND. 


4i 


divisions are essential in order to enable the indi- 
vidual to tide over the difficulties of his position 
in this world without jeopardizing more than he 
now does his prospects in a future existence. As 
a Scotchman I could legally marry on this island, 
while as an Englishman I could not ; as a Presby- 
terian in a colony of which I was the lawmaker, I 
could marry my deceased wife’s sister, while as a 
Churchman residing in England I could not. It 
would be difficult for any one to prove that my 
chances for heaven were reduced by this convenient 
adaptation of means to ends. Could any system 
be more beautiful than this which provides a 
remedy for the imperfections or the arbitrariness 
of the institutions regulatingthe condition of man ! 

I had arrived at these conclusions by the close 
of the second day and brought myself again to a 
serene and hopeful state of mind. It was not 
without some difficulty, however, that I sought 
once more the presence of the lady of my affec- 
tions. Although firmly convinced of the correct- 
ness and justice of my new position, yet it always 
requires an effort to make confession and to explain 
a change of conduct and especially of opinion ; 
and I was not at all certain as to the way in which 
she would now receive me. But there is no logi- 
cian like love. They say he laughs at locks and 
keys, but he does not laugh at logic ; rather he 
makes it a potent ally by the added appliance of 
earnestness, enthusiasm, and magnetic forces. Rea- 
son in the hand of love becomes irresistible. 


42 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


The little isle seemed larger and fairer after we 
were married. Together we strolled over our min- 
iature territories, explored every nook, and mapped 
it out, giving names to every locality, both inland 
and on the coast. We had our winter and our 
summer residences, the former being the cave 
which was improved by the addition of various 
conveniences, while the latter was composed of the 
tent, removed to the opposite side of the island on 
the edge of a grove of cocoa palms that mirrored 
themselves in the placid waters of a small lagoon. 
I amused myself by putting up a flagstaff on 
the highest point of the island, on which the British 
ensign, which I had saved from the wreck, was 
daily flung to the breeze in the hope of attracting 
a passing ship, and also to assert the claims of 
Great Britain to this remote and apparently undis- 
covered corner of the globe. With the view of 
strengthening the validity of our marriage, al- 
though I did not choose to disturb my wife by 
mentioning this reason, I also drew up a code of 
laws for the guidance of the colony of Nova An- 
glia, as I called our little island. In this code 
were prescribed, among other regulations, the 
various forms of marriage permitted there ; which 
of course included marriage without witnesses. I 
gave it authorization as governor by the grace of 
God and, presumptively, by the will of her majesty, 
Queen Victoria. 

I had not been too precipitate in arranging a 
system of government for Nova Anglia, for the 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND . 


43 


population was sensibly increased, in fact doubled, 
before the close of the year by the addition of 
bouncing twins, a boy and a girl, who arrived at our 
capital, Victoriopolis, one fine morning, under the 
auspices of their mother. We celebrated the event 
by firing a salute with the musket saved from the 
wreck and opening one of the few remaining bot- 
tles of Piper Heidseck supplied from the same 
source. The municipal authorities being duly no- 
tified, this influx of population was carefully 
recorded. Old Fido showed immense happiness on 
this occasion, licking the round soft faces of the 
new comers with such delight that it brought tears 
to the eyes of the happy mother. 

Our happiness seemed complete. It is in such 
moments the experienced heart learns to look for 
new perplexities and troubles ; for the joys of life 
seem only given as oases in the desert intended to 
afford us strength for the next dreary march across 
a wild and burning waste. When my darling was 
able to walk with me to our seat by the beach, I 
carrying a twin on each arm, it was a joyous day 
for us all. Thither we resorted daily in the late 
afternoon and discoursed of our home beyond the 
seas ; but not with despair did our thoughts 
revert thither, for the memory of it was as the 
memory of dear ones whom we never shall see 
more in this world, but whose tender, gracious 
lives still go with us. To the settled feeling that we 
were to remain on this islet until death should 
close our eyes, was now added the happiness, and 


44 WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 

yet the deep responsibility of training the little 
immortals confided to our care in this unknown 
and isolated Eden of the seas. 

Yes, they were immortals, and this it was which 
gave such seriousness to the eyes of their mother 
as she gazed at them sleeping, locked in each 
other’s arms in the cradle hammock I had swung 
for them under the palms. She was of a deeply 
religious nature. In the intellectual circles in 
which she had once moved, perhaps her mind had 
become for a time estranged, or rather fascinated, 
from the stricter paths of religion to listen to the 
precepts of a broad philosophy proud of its fan- 
cied discoveries in the domains of inspiration and 
thought. But now her feminine instincts reasserted 
themselves and her religious nature assumed a fer- 
vor bordering on superstition. Better, however, a 
devotee than a sceptic in petticoats ! The affec- 
tions may continue to move a woman’s heart in the 
former case, but beware of the love of her whose 
heart is wholly without faith ! She was a member 
of the Church, that is, of course, in the exclusive 
sense in which it is used by the members of the 
Protestant Episcopal sect. As she belonged to the 
American branch and not the Anglican body, this 
had not prevented her from acquiescing in v marrying 
her brother-in-law. But, on the other hand she, 
with many American Church people, was attached 
to the extreme ritualistic wing, which not only be- 
lieves in choir-boys and in priests prostrated in the 
form of a cross at Easter, and other crucial solem- 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


45 


nities and tests of faith, but also in the supreme 
efficacy of baptism as a means of salvation. It 
was this strong belief in the necessity of this rite 
that added to her seriousness as she reflected on 
the destiny of the precious souls entrusted to her 
by a mysterious providence. I confess that I was 
also not without uneasiness on the question of this 
salvation, for many members of the Presbyterian 
body, to which I now belonged, hold opinions not 
at all reassuring as to the welfare of unconverted 
infants. 

“ What can we do, my dear ? ” said she one day 
to me. “ How are we to settle about the baptism of 
our dear children ? do you not see any way by which 
it can be done ? It seems so dreadful for them to 
grow up unbaptized ; I can not bear to think of it.” 

“ We must trust that all will be well ; we can do 
nothing about it but pray for them and be resigned. 
How would it do, however, for me to read over 
them the baptismal service out of the prayer- 
book ? ” 

“ It would never do, I fear. Not only are you 
simply a layman, but you are not even a Church- 
man now.” 

A sudden thought came to my aid. “ What you 
say is quite true ; but dearest, let me ask you a 
question. You believe that there are those of other 
sects besides Episcopalians who will be saved ? ” 
As she hesitated, I continued, “ You do not think 
that believing and consistent members of the Presby- 
terian Church will be lost ? ” 


46 


WE TWO ON AN /SLANT. 


“ Of course not you, my poor darling.” 

“ And you believe that your dear friend Eliza, of 
whom you so often speak, who was a Methodist, 
and your adoptive mother, who was a Baptist, will 
be saved ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, yes, I would as soon doubt my own 
faith as theirs, and perhaps sooner.” 

“ Very well. Now let us look at the question on 
this line of argument. If you admit the salvation 
of one Baptist, you must admit that of others lead- 
ing equally consistent and Christian lives.” She 
did not dispute this and I continued: “ Now then, 
if we grant that Baptists may be saved, if leading 
Christian lives, no less than Episcopalians, then it 
is a question of outward forms and ceremonies 
rather than of essentials as between the merits of 
the two craeds. This being so, it becomes a serious 
question whether we should not adopt a sect which 
can relieve us under present circumstances of some 
of the anxieties which are disturbing us. Baptists 
defer the entire question of baptism to adult life, 
very sensibly as appears to me, leaving it to the 
choice of the mature judgment and relieving par- 
ents of all responsibility on that score. Of course I 
could under no circumstances have any sympathy 
with the narrow brains of those mediaeval owls, the 
close communion Baptists. Now then, what I have 
to propose, my dear wife, is that we both accept the 
general doctrines of the Baptist persuasion. As 
we have seen, we do not thereby reduce our hopes 
of heaven, while we certainly do reduce the per- 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


47 


plexities of our present situation. I, for one, shall 
become a Baptist; you, my dear wife, may think it 
over ; but I am sure you will eventually come to 
the same conclusion. Indeed I feel that in making 
this change I have one more opportunity for feeling 
grateful for the beneficent provision which by 
ordaining different sects and forms of belief enables 
me under altered circumstances to suit my beliefs 
to those circumstances without abandoning the 
essentials which underlie true religion.” 

To my surprise I must confess, but also to my 
immense gratification, my dear wife placed her hand 
in mine and in a sweet low voice said, “ Whither 
thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I 
will lodge ; thy people shall be my people, and thy 
God my God.” 

Thus had we in a most remarkable and at the 
same time satisfactory way succeeded in escaping 
from a difficulty that threatened to cast a shadow 
over the happiness of our little home. 

The months and years went by. We were 
resigned to our destiny and yet did not altogether 
abandon hope of again seeing our far away home 
beyond the sea. Perhaps my wife and I might have 
been better reconciled to remaining on the island 
but for our children. Still we did not pass the time 
in repining. Once a month I kindled a large fire 
on the beach as a signal to passing ships. Our 
supply of rockets I husbanded for more rare occa- 
sions. On the birthday of the Queen, on the fourth 
of July, and on the anniversary of our wedding, I 


4 8 


WE TWO 0/V AN ISLAND. 


always sent up rockets at intervals of five minutes, 
both to please the children and to serve as possible 
signals. 

Four years had gone by since our marriage. It 
was our fourth anniversary. The sky was serene, 
the winds were hushed and the sea was calm. 
Leading our little girl, I directed my steps to our 
signal hill while my companion walked at my side 
holding the hand of our little boy, and poor faithful 
Fido trotted slowly behind, for he was now growing 
old. I carried with me a bunch of rockets and sent 
up two of these fiery meteors to the delight of the 
twins but the terror of Fido. I was about to start 
a third of these fiery messengers when far away in 
the mysterious gloom of the offing we suddenly 
beheld a rocket go up in reply and drop its cluster 
of golden stars silently to the water. “ See, see, 
papa !” cried the little ones, clapping their tiny hands 
with glee, while my wife clasped my arm with both 
hands, trembling violently with the intense excite- 
ment of that moment terrible with rapture, with 
anxiety, with suspense. I could not utter a word, 
the tears fell from my eyes like rain. Eight years 
had I waited and looked and prayed for that sign. 
But my presence of mind did not forsake me. Im- 
mediately I touched off another rocket, and to my 
inexpressible joy it was again answered ; this time, 
as I fancied, at a slightly reduced distance. The 
sight of that second rocket answering my signal was 
too much for my feelings. I dropped on my knees 
and with quivering lips gave fervent thanks. I then 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


49 


ran to our store-house for a fresh supply of rockets, 
our last as it proved. I continued sending them 
up at intervals and had the gratification of seeing 
the answering signal repeated. It then occurred to 
me that the crew of the approaching vessel, hitherto 
ignorant, perhaps, of the existence of this island and 
imagining the rockets to proceed from a ship in 
distress might incautiously approach too near the 
outlying reefs. It took but a moment to collect a 
heap of dry leaves and brush, which I kindled at 
various points on the beach. In the meantime my 
wife put the children to bed, leaving them in the 
care of Fido. It is safe to say that neither of us 
slept a wink that night, the long night that so 
slowly faded into the golden dawn. 

As soon as it became light enough to discern 
objects at a distance we discovered a steamer at 
anchor one mile from shore. In half an hour we 
saw a boat put off for the island. By waving a 
white cloth I was able to guide them to a smooth 
beach and soon heard in English the coxswain’s wel- 
come words, “ Way enough ! ” as the crew tossed 
their oars and the keel grated on the sand. The 
scene was one better imagined than described. 
The captain offered us a free passage home and 
kindly promised to wait a few hours while we made 
our little preparations for departure from a spot 
which, now that the time came for leaving it for- 
ever, was yet not left without some lingering regret. 
It was best that we should go, and yet we looked 
with a certain dread at the possibilities opening be- 


50 WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 

fore us as we considered the active, bewildering life 
we were about to re-enter. 

Hurriedly we visited together each well - known 
haunt, endeared by so many tender associations, 
and gathered a few mementoes to carry away with 
us. We were about ready to embark when we 
missed Fido, who had been ailing for several days. 
Diligent search being made, for we could not bear 
to leave him behind, the poor old dog was found 
near the cave, dying. The excitement of seeing 
so many strangers had evidently overtaxed his 
failing strength. He tried to wag his tail, and 
licked the little girl’s tiny hand with his 
last gasp. We buried him by the cave, with 
a headstone on which I rudely engraved the 
words : “ Fido, Faithful.” The children wept 
convulsively that they could not take him in the 
boat to which we were now hurried. Soon we were 
on board a stout ship ; at the word of command 
the anchor came up, and we were heading for 
home, our hearts moved by emotions I leave the 
reader to imagine. 

Elegant as were the cabins and the comfortable 
staterooms placed at our disposal, it was difficult 
after our long out-of-door life to remain below. We 
wanted constantly to be on deck. The twins, with 
their brown faces, the picture of health, their artless 
prattle and innocent ways, at once attracted the 
attention of the ladies, who insisted on petting them 
and asking them manifold questions about our life 
on the island. The details of our extraordinary 


WE TIVO ON AN ISLAND. 51 

experience, of course, aroused the deepest interest. 
But I could not avoid noticing a marked coolness 
in the deportment of the ladies toward my wife, as 
they learned piecemeal the circumstances of our 
marriage. On my own account I did not feel it 
necessary to take notice of such narrow and 
unamiable behavior, but as I could not bear to 
have the slightest imputation cast on one who 
was indeed part of myself, I felt it necessary to 
take an early opportunity of stating the facts to the 
captain. As a man he was able to take a much 
broader and less prejudiced view of the case than 
they, and he privately gave out to the other pas- 
sengers that he should not permit any rudeness 
toward us, since we had married by contract 
and prayer-book, and were as legally married as 
ever were man and wife. 

In due time we arrived at the Thames and 
exchanged our lonely estates in Nova Anglica for 
the vast maelstrom of London. I placed myself in 
communication with my family and ere long we were 
whirling by rail to my estates in Scotland. The 
news of my return created a great sensation in that 
district. This, together with my former popularity, 
encouraged me to again stand for Parliament at 
the next hustings and I was triumphantly elected. 

In the course of the ensuing session at West- 
minster the old, old question of abolishing the law 
against marrying a deceased wife’s sister, came up 
for consideration and for probable defeat, owing 
to the barnacles called Lords Spiritual who some- 


5 2 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


times cling to the ship of state in such wise as to 
impede its progress. To the astonishment of 
those who remembered my former views on this 
subject, but who were unaware of the circum- 
stances attending my second marriage, I ranged my- 
self on the side of members who favored the bill. My 
remarks were at first listened to with cries of “ hear, 
hear ! ” As I proceeded shouts of derision were flung 
at me by the opposition, who mocked what they were 
pleased to call my inconsistency and my treason to 
party. Various other pleasant methods were em- 
ployed for interrupting and disconcerting me 
peculiar to deliberative assemblies, and not un- 
known to the House of Commons. 

Stimulated rather than daunted by these efforts 
to crush free speech and free opinion, I launched 
forth into the following burst of feeling which I 
take the liberty to quote here from the rec- 
ords of the reporters: “Yes, if to change my 
opinions and to have the courage to avow it be 
inconsistency, then am I inconsistent. But is it 
not more noble to change when one finds that he 
is wrong than as a hypocrite and a coward to appear 
to maintain principles and opinions he no longer 
accepts in his heart ! As for the question now 
before the house, marriage with a deceased wife’s 
sister, I regard this only as an occasion for offering 
the opportunity to express an entire departure on my 
part from a system of which this question is merely 
an excrescence, a symptom of a disease that is per- 
meating our entire religious and civil polity. We 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND . 53 

have too many forms and tests of # faith in our 
churches, too many laws and restrictions in our 
codes. There is too much effort expended to 
hound men into heaven, while every sect has its 
own special shibboleth of admittance to the golden 
gates. Non-essentials have completely hidden 
essentials ; I repeat, the spirit of religion and of 
law is lost in cold, non-essential forms and regula- 
tions. Take away the sectarian forms which 
smother the essence of religion, and men will yet 
not miss of seeing God ; leave more to the discre- 
tion, the good sense, the intelligence, the right-feel- 
ing of men in the conduct of life, and burden them 
less with trifling and sumptuary laws, and society 
will be nobler and happier even if we do thereby 
reduce the number of clients for the lawyers. The 
day is coming, if it has not yet come, when the 
puerilities of our creeds and our codes will strike 
men dumb with amazement that good men should 
ever have sought to rivet such needless chains 
around the free action of the soul, or permitted 
themselves to be so bound. We shall learn how to 
distinguish the essential from the non-essential, 
the kernel from the husk ; the soul shall be fed 
and sustained with wheat instead of chaff. The 
golden rule shall efface half the laws in our 
codes ; men shall cease for trifles to sit in judg- 
ment on their fellow-men, and charity shall not be 
a word to be differently interpreted or applied by 
conventional sectarian rules, but a living principle 
everywhere producing the same beneficent results. 


54 


WE TWO ON AN ISLAND. 


In view of ’such grand aims, such magnificent 
results, is it not the most contemptible quibbling, 
nay, criminal trifling, for us to hamper our fellow 
pilgrims on this solemn journey to the country 
where we must all finally meet, by such non-essen- 
tial quiddities as ritualisms, as baptisms, as candles, 
as forms of prayer, or the last absurdity, raked forth 
from the musty caverns of antediluvian ignorance 
and intolerance, the question as to whether an intel- 
ligent man, a sincere Christian and an orderly citi- 
zen shall contract marriage with the sister of his 
deceased wife ?” 


THE EVOLUTION OF THE 
AMERICAN YACHT. 


























































































THE EVOLUTION OF THE 
AMERICAN YACHT. 


I T is an interesting circumstance that examples 
of what was probably the first distinctively 
American craft may still be seen occasionally. The 
name of the pink or pinkie was derived from the 
Dutch, probably at a remote period. The model 
was perhaps suggested by the quaint hookers of 
the Scheldt, although it is far more graceful ; and 
it is a noteworthy fact that a very large propor- 
tion of the marine terms employed in the English 
language are from the Dutch. The American pink 
was invented for the cod-fisheries ; it was at first 
pointed at both ends, with raking stern-post, was 
from five to twenty tons burden, and was rigged 
with two fore-and-aft sails. Afterward, a bowsprit 
and cut-water were added. These pinkies are highly 
picturesque and seaworthy, but have been gradu- 
ally superseded by the broad- stern fishing-schoon- 
ers of Gloucester and Essex. But antique examples 
of this curious craft are still to be seen creeping in 
and out about the little sleepy ports down east, or 
laying their rusty sides on the oozy flats left by the 


5 8 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

tide. They are most common in the waters about 
Eastport, especially in the herring-fisheries. 

The year 1713 was a great era in American 
naval annals. In that year Captain Andrew Rob- 
inson built the first schooner ever seen. This was 
at Gloucester. As she glided into the water, a 
by-stander cried : “ Look how she schoons ! ” 
Catching at the word, Captain Robinson replied : 
“ A schooner let her be ! ” The new rig came at 
once into wide acceptance. Only eight years later 
an old chronicler, Dr. Moses Prince, wrote of Cap- 
tain Robinson : “ This gentleman was first contri- 
ver of schooners, and built the first of that sort 
about eight years since ; and the use now made of 
them, being so much known, has convinced the 
world of their convenience over other vessels, and 
shows how mankind is obliged to this gentleman 
for his knowledge.” This is by no means the only 
instance of the adoption of American marine inven- 
tions by other nations. Captain Howe’s patent for 
double top-sails, for example, is now universally 
employed in square-rigged vessels. 

The fore and aft sails of the schooner are really a 
division of the sails of the sloop ; and the sloop-rig, 
if analyzed to its square root, is evolved from the 
lateen-sail of the Mediterranean, cut into a main- 
sail and jib. When properly shaped these two sails 
present one three-cornered sail divided near the 
middle by the mast, exactly where the yard of a 
lateen-sail would hang to the traveler on the mast. 
Subsequent modifications naturally suggested the 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 59 

cutter by dividing the jib in two, and Captain Rob- 
inson, as we have seen, divided the mainsail, and 
added a mast, and the result was a two-masted, 
fore and aft schooner. During the last twenty years 
the schooner’s mainsail has in turn been divided, a 
third mast has been added, and the result has 
been the three-masted schooner. Each of these 
modifications has been suggested with the idea of 
facilitating the handling of the sails, while the 
principles involved continue the same in each. A 
fore and aft vessel sails several points nearer to 
the wind than a square-rigged ship, hence a decided 
advantage in one of the most valuable features of 
a ship when sails are the motive power. This, of 
course, is of vital importance in coasters obliged to 
beat up narrow estuaries, or in yachts intended for 
racing. 

Exactly when the schooner had square top-sails 
added to her rig it is difficult to ascertain, but one 
and two-top-sail schooners were at one time much 
in vogue. The square top-sails, however, have 
been discarded in this rig for many years in 
America, although the top-sail schooner — a very 
jaunty rig it is — continues to be a favorite in 
Europe. The Wanderer is the only top-sail 
schooner yacht now flying the American flag. 

After the invention of the schooner there seems 
to have been no essential difference between Eng- 
lish and American ships for nearly a century. The 
Constitution , built by Humphry in 1788, had the 
falling in topsides of foreign frigates, but in less 


6o EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

degree, great breadth on the load line, a straight 
keel, and full bow, characteristics of sea-going 
vessels at that time. 

But a new era in the modeling of vessels on 
this side of the Atlantic began soon after the 
opening of this century ; to this we were indebted 
very largely for the success of the War of 1812, 
for the great activity of our commercial marine 
until the breaking out of the late civil war, 
and for the frequent trophies carried off by our 
leading yachts. Almost simultaneously, a group 
of master builders appeared, whose united talents 
and efforts brought about this revolution in the 
principles of ship-construction. We think it is no 
overstatement to say that to no one are we more 
indebted for this result than to Henry Eckford, 
who was born in 1775, the year of the Declaration 
of Independence. At sixteen, in the ship-yards of 
his uncle, Mr. John Black, at Quebec, he com- 
menced a study of the pursuit in which he was to 
gain such distinction. At the early age of twenty- 
one, Mr. Eckford settled in New York, and by his 
original and scientific methods at once obtained 
recognition and abundant employment. His care- 
ful system of study is well described by his 
biographer. “Upon the return of one of his ves- 
sels from a voyage, he obtained by a series of ques- 
tions from her commander an accurate estimate of 
her properties under all the casualties of naviga- 
tion. This, connected with her form, enabled him 
to execute his judgment upon the next vessel to be 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 6 1 


built. In this way he proceeded, successively 
improving the shape of each, until those con- 
structed by him, or after his models, firmly estab- 
lished the character of New York built ships over 
those of any other port in the Union. * * * 

Fashioned after his models our vessels gradually 
dispensed with their large and low stern frames, the 
details of their rigging underwent extensive 
changes, and m the important particulars of sta- 
bility, speed, and capacity, they soon far surpassed 
their rivals ” One of Eckford’s greatest feats was 
the construction of the sloop-of-war Madison , of 
twenty-four guns, in the most primitive of navy-yards 
on Lake Erie, in just forty days after the timber of 
which she was made was cut in the forest. Cooper, 
in his “Naval History of the United States,” says : 
“ Henry Eckford was undoubtedly a man of genius. 
* * * His professional qualities proved to be 

of the highest order.” The line-of-battle ship, 
Ohio , generally considered to be the finest sailing 
ship-of-war we have ever had. was built by Eckford, 
and may still be seen lying at the Charlestown 
navy-yard. He subsequently built a frigate for the 
Turkish navy, and accepted an offer to superintend 
the navy yards of that government. But after 
building one line-of-battle ship at Constantinople 
he died there suddenly. The influence of his 
genius was such, however, that all the Turkish 
men-of war built for years after that were after 
his models and rig, presenting, in that respect, 
a striking contrast to the fleets of other nations, 


6 2 EVOLUTION OF THE A MER /CAN YACHT. 

with their bluff bows and topsides tumbling 
home. 

Another important feature of this period of 
American naval construction was the invention and 
development of the famous Baltimore clipper. 
Already the maritime enterprise of this noted port 
had been distinguished by the famous voyages of 
such armed merchant ships as the Leila and Argyle 
in the latter part of the eighteenth century. The 
Baltimore clipper appeared by gradual evolution in 
the early part of this century, and was intended 
originally as a model for a ship that would be 
advantageous in eluding the British cruisers in the 
West Indies, who were in the habit of boarding our 
vessels, and taking away such of the crew as were 
English citizens. Another cause for the origin of 
these clippers was the pirates swarming in those 
waters, and also, the design of stimulating the 
importation of African slaves. Their origin seems 
to have been suggested in part, at least, by Com- 
modore Daniels, who was at one time connected 
with the natives of the South American states, and 
made a name as a ship-builder. Caleb Goodwin 
was also one of the ship-builders who distinguished 
himself at the time in winning fame for the fast 
ships of Baltimore. These clippers were doubtless 
due to a study of Spanish, and especially Genoese 
models. The Latin races, while inferior to the 
English as sailors and navigators, have, until this 
age, shown greater skill in the successful applica- 
tion of the principles involved in the designing of 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 63 

ships. Suggestions may likewise have been obtained 
from the small craft of the Channel and Bermuda 
Isles. When full fledged the Baltimore clipper was 
a ship with a low free-board, broad of beam before 
the centre, having a flaring bow above, but sharp 
at the water line, and with a deep draught aft, or 
what is called a long leg, a slightly raking stern- 
post, and a clean run. They were rigged as 
schooners and more rarely as brigs, and were 
heavily sparred, while the masts raked to such a 
degree that a line dropped plumb from the main- 
truck would nearly or quite touch the taffrail. 
These lines gave at once a dry deck, stability and 
sail-carrying power. 

When the War of 1812 broke out, the superior 
qualities of the Baltimore clipper at once became 
apparent. The Atlantic was swept by these 
hardy little cruisers, who contributed more to 
uphold the honor of the stars and stripes than 
any other element in the war. This fact was fully 
appreciated by the enemy. Said Captain Wise, of 
H. M. frigate Granicus, to Captain Coggeshall, one 
of our successful privateersmen, but at that time a 
prisoner to the Englisn : “ Coggeshall, you Ameri- 
cans are a singular people, as respects seamanship 
and enterprise. In England we can not build such 
vessels as your Baltimore clippers. We have no 
such models, and even if we had them, they would 
be of no service to us, for we never could sail them 
as you do. We have now and then taken some of 
your schooners with our faSt-sailing frigates. They 


64 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT 

have sometimes caught one of them under their 
lee in a heavy gale of wind, by out-carrying them. 
Then, again, we have taken a few with our boats 
in calm weather. We are afraid of their long masts 
and heavy spars, and soon cut down and reduce 
them to our standing. We strengthen them, put 
up bulwarks, etc., after which they lose their sail- 
ing qualities, and are of no further service as 
cruisers.” 

The Baltimore clipper was the parent of several 
types of vessels. The famous oyster pungies of 
the Chesapeake are allied to it, but the latest phase 
of this form is the Baltimore buckeye. It is long 
and low, has a raking sternpost, and the greatest 
beam in the fore section, while the masts have the 
rake of the old-time clippers. The sails are tri- 
angular in shape. But their most remarkable fea- 
ture, which seems to suggest the Genoese influences 
already alluded to, is the long, beak-like cut-water, 
flanked by broad breast-plates at the knight- 
heads in which the hawse-holes look like eyes. 
By all odds, the most foreign-looking craft in 
American waters, they are very good sailers, espe- 
cially on a wind. 

Another modification of the Baltimore clipper 
was developed in our pilot-boats, which, little by 
little, assumed the type represented by the George 
Steers and Mary Taylor y famous little schooners 
designed by George Steers in 1845 — a type which 
continues to be followed, with little variation, in 
this service even now, after a lapse of forty years. 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 65 

They have a keel sloping up to the fore-foot, deep 
draft, a sharp floor, and a sheer both at stem 
and stern which makes them buoyant and dry in a 
sea-way. 

About the year of 1844 began the most import- 
ant era in the history of American ship-building. 
Our Liverpool packets had already demonstrated 
the capabilities of our builders and mariners. The 
Canada , for example, under the command of Cap- 
tain Seth G. Macy, made her trips almost with the 
regularity of a steamer. Fourteen to sixteen days 
was the average length of her voyages between the 
two ports. This may have been an extreme case, 
but the fact remains that these “ liners ” made a 
remarkable record. They carried double crews, 
that being before the great labor-saving invention 
of double top-sails. The quarter-masters or steer- 
ers had their quarters aft, and the reefs in the top- 
sails were shaken out whenever the wind lulled ; 
thus the “ liner,” in a gale, would often walk 
past ships which could not make sail or take it in 
fast enough. 

Those were the days when the Webbs, the Liv- 
ingstons, the Browns and the Bells, the Clag- 
horns, the Eldridges, the Fullers, the Lawrences, 
and other excellent artisans of New York, 
Salem, Boston or Philadelphia, were in their prime. 
The increasing importance of the East India trade — 
especially the tea trade— a few years before the 
general adoption of the propeller in steamships, and 
the rush to California after its cession to the 


66 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 


United States and the discovery of gold, induced 
the construction of the famous clipper which car- 
ried the development of sailing ships to the highest 
point of excellence yet reached in the history of 
naval architecture. Without mooting the question 
about the respective merits of the noted Aberdeen 
clippers and the American ships which, during a 
period of perhaps fifteen years, circled the globe 
with their vast expanse of canvas, it is not too 
strong a statement to say that some of the runs 
made by our ships at that time have never been sur- 
passed by either sail or steam, until within the last 
two years. The great builder of packets, Isaac 
Webb, died in 1843. Donald McKay, a native of 
Nova Scotia, who removed in youth to Newbury - 
port and made a name there and in Boston, began, 
at the same time, to win a world-wide reputation 
for clipper ships of a size and speed hitherto unex- 
ampled. Many competitors appeared at the same 
time. The ship James Baines , built by McKay 
ran 420 miles in 24 hours. The ship Red Jacket , 
built at Rockland, Main, ran 2280 miles in 7 days, 
or 325 miles per diem, for a week. The Flying 
Cloud, McKay’s most celebrated ship, once made 
374 knots, or 433 miles in 24 hours, and 25 minutes, 
equal to 17.17 miles an hour. To appreciate these 
distances, compare them with the greatest distance 
ever made in 24 hours by a Liverpool steamer up 
to the year 1884, the now celebrated Alaska, in the 
fastest westward passage until then accomplished 
from Liverpool to New York. Her greatest run 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 67 

was 419 miles in 24 hours. This proves what all 
sailors know, but of what few landsmen are aware — 
that, with a strong and steady favoring wind, it is 
still possible for a sailing-ship to equal the speed of 
an Atlantic steamship. The difficulty lies not 
in the ability of the ships, but in the fact that the 
wind is unsteady. 

These American clippers were a modification 
of the Baltimore clipper, with less beam, a slightly 
flaring bow, a long, sharp, hollow entrance, sug- 
gesting the wave line, and the greatest beam 
about amidships on the load line. Although 
heavily sparred, their masts were generally propor- 
tionately lower than in the ships which they suc- 
ceeded, and the yards were longer, giving a large 
but low spread of canvas. This type of ship may 
be said to have culminated in the Great Republic , 
built by Donald McKay in 1855. She registered 
4300 tons, and carried four masts. A peculiarity 
of this noblt ship was her rising keel, which for a 
length of sixty feet, sloped up toward the stem. 
A similar feature can be observed in the sheer plan 
of the famous yacht Maria. 

At the same time that the American merchant 
clipper was entering upon its brief but glorious 
career, evidences of activity in another depart- 
ment of marine architecture became apparent, 
which, with various alternations, have continued to 
the present time, and are now attracting more gen- 
eral interest than ever before. I refer to the 
development of the American yacht. The Romans 


68 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 


had numerous pleasure vessels, but there is no 
reason to suppose they were intended for anything 
more than floating barges. The Greeks, the Vene- 
tians, and other southern people also had their 
pleasure ships, but the Dutch and the English 
were the first who are recorded as enjoying yacht- 
ing for the exercise it gives to the manly virtues, 
making it at once a vigorous pastime and a school 
for seamen. A yacht was built in 1604 for Henry, 
eldest son of James I. Pepys in his diary has 
much to say of a Dutch sailing yacht called the 
Bezan , presented by the Dutch to King Charles I. 
in 1661. Pepys had the instincts of a genuine 
yachtsman, for he not only enjoyed the excitement 
of a sail in a stiff breeze, but also the snug comfort 
of a cozy cabin with attractive companions and 
books. Further on he says : “ A yacht was built to 
beat the Bezan , by our virtuosos, with the help of 
Commissioner Pett,” a feat in which she succeeded 
in an exciting race to which Pepys briefly alludes. 
This is the first match race on record in the annals 
of yachting. 

The first organization that gave distinct encour- 
agement to yachting was, however, not estab- 
lished until 1815. It was founded at Cowes 
and was called “The Royal Yacht Squadron.” 
It was followed in 1820 by the Royal Cork, which, 
however, as the Water Club, had existed since 
1720. Yachting began in America in an informal 
way early in this century. It is an interesting 
fact that there is an American yacht still in 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 6g 

commission, whose fame was made in 1819. 
Originally intended for a Baltimore pungie, she 
was turned into a schooner-yacht and called the 
Hornet. In 1847 she was completely repaired, and 
again in 1850 and 1855 she was overhauled and 
altered by George Steers, and called the Sport. 
She now belongs to the Hull Yacht Club, and pos- 
sesses some excellent sailing qualities. In 1879 
she was lengthened and rebuilt. In 1836 the 
Wave was modeled by Stevens and built by Brown 
& Bell. The -Sy^fschooner was the crack yacht 
in Boston in 1835. But she was beaten by the 
Wave in a thrash to windward off Nantucket 
Shoals. This seems to have been the first race of 
American yachts of which there is any positive 
record. The interest in this sport was gaining, 
and in 1838 a number of saucy little craft acquired 
a name for themselves ; among them were the 
Mohamet , Dream , Raven and Breeze . The latter 
was fast, beating to windward, and was originally 
an oyster-boat. But no regular yachting organiza- 
tion was formed in America until 1844, when the 
New York Yacht Club was founded, with a mem- 
bership of nine members and nine yachts. The 
first regatta in America was sailed July 17, 1845 ; 
the Cygnet was the winner. All the yachts of that 
period had a strong rake to the masts. Their 
canvas was confined to lower sails, excepting some- 
times a small jib-headed main-gaft top-sail in the 
schooners. The head of these sails had very little 
slant, being about parallel with the booms. 


70 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

Robert Livingston Stevens was the most distin- 
guished of a family of inventors, who are identified 
with the progress of ship and steam navigation in 
America. He was possessed of extraordinary 
mental activity. But for none of his inventions 
will he be longer remembered than as the designer 
of the famous sloop-yacht Maria , whose exploits 
mark an era in American ship-building and yacht- 
ing. She was built at Hoboken in 1844 by Mr. 
Capes, after Stevens’s plans. She was one hundred 
and ten feet over all, with a beam of twenty-six feet, 
eight inches. Her draft aft was five feet, three 
inches, decreasing forward to a minimum of six 
inches under the fore-foot. The main-boom was 
ninety-five feet long and three feet in diameter, and 
hollow, being constructed of doweled white-pine 
staves, strengthened by iron hoops and trusses of 
iron rods. The foot of her mainsail measured 
ninety-two feet, and of her jib seventy feet, the 
latter being laced to a boom. The model of the 
Maria was suggested by the low, broad, almost 
flat-bottomed sloops employed to steal over the 
shallows of the Hudson and the Sound — vessels 
depending on beam rather than on ballast for sta- 
bility, and imitated by many of our coasters, which 
are so stiff that they sometimes run down the coast 
without either cargo or ballast. Though having a 
flat floor with only moderate dead rise, the lines of 
the Maria were much finer ; she had a long, hollow 
bow, and was so sharp that the extreme point of 
the stem had to be widened where the bowsprit 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 7 1 

entered the hull. The deck plan was not unlike 
an elongated flat-iron, as she was very broad aft, 
tapering off only moderately from the greatest 
beam to the broad and somewhat heavy stern. 

The model of the Maria has since then been 
generally followed by small centre-board sloops in 
New York waters and along the Sound, and on the 
Merrimac, although never to the same extreme 
degree. Two features gave especial significance 
to this extraordinary yacht. One of these was her 
double centre-b„oard. The principle of the centre- 
board was not strictly new, Captain Schank of the 
Royal Navy having used one in Boston when the 
British fleet was stationed there ; but its general 
adoption in American waters makes it practically 
a cis-Atlantic invention. It is an evolution from 
the lee-board, such as the Dutch have used several 
centuries on the broad, bluff sloops floating on the 
canals of Holland. The lee-board can be seen in 
the pictures of Vander Velde. After the Dutch 
settled on Manhattan Island they borrowed the rig 
of the down-east pinks for the boats which plied in 
New York Bay, and gave them a lee-board. The 
name of this peculiarly American craft was taken 
from the Caribs of the West Indies, brought thence 
by some hurricane-beaten buccaneer, and thus we 
had the pirogue. It was as a barefoot lad, sailing 
a pirogue for a ferry-boat between Staten Island 
and New York, that the late Commodore Vander- 
bilt began his wonderful career. Pirogues without 
the lee-board are still used on the Lakes. 


72 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

Mr. Stevens fitted the Maria with two centre- 
boards. The forward one drew twenty feet of 
water when down, and was weighted with lead. 
Nicely adjusted springs enabled it to rise easily 
and rapidly in case it touched the ground. When 
housed it rose several feet above the deck, and had 
the slots cut to fit the deck beams. The after- 
board was intended to aid in steering her when 
running free, as she griped and yawed. She was 
steered by a long tiller, but since that time the 
steering-wheel has come into general use in 
American yachts ; even little sloops of not more 
than twenty-two feet length are now to be seen 
with a wheel. Several neat inventions are in use 
for this purpose. A wheel is doubtless more 
advantageous in steering free for our broad shal- 
low yachts than a tiller. 

Another peculiarity of the Maria was the 
massive india-rubber compressor on the trav- 
eler, to break the strain of the main-boom on 
the sheet in jibing. This is probably the first 
time rubber was ever employed for this pur- 
pose. Since then it has been used to ease 
the bitter end of a fishing schooner’s cable when 
riding in a gale, at the head of fore-top-mast stays, 
and even for the lanyards of wire shrouds. The 
other marked feature of the Maria which was not 
sufficiently considered at the time, but is deserving 
of emphatic attention now in view of recent 
developments in English yacht construction, was 
the outside lead ballast she carried. Iron ballast 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT 73 

on the keel has been for some time not uncommon 
in the smaller New England yachts, but the use of 
outside lead ballast by the Maria thirty-five years 
ago, even if differently placed than in English 
cutters, is a remarkable fact. Molds five inches 
deep were fixed outside on her bottom, carefully 
shaped to the lines of the floor, for a distance of 
twenty feet on each side of the keel. Holes were 
then bored through the skin, and several tons of 
hot lead were poured into the molds. 

Great inventive ability had contributed to the 
building of the Maria , and her performances justi- 
fied the expectations of her builder. She was 
known to log seventeen knots, or over twenty 
miles, an hour in smooth water. But that was 
essentially her element. Her extreme shallow- 
ness diminished her momentum in a sea-way, not- 
withstanding the fineness of her lines, and for 
once she was beaten in a match with the Coquette 
in October, 1846. The Coquette represented alto- 
gether a different type of model, and thus the 
conflict now raging in yachting circles here regard- 
ing the respective merits of deep and shallow ves- 
sels was practically settled before many of those 
now discussing the question were born. The Coquette 
was a little schooner of only sixty-six feet in length 
over all. But she drew ten feet of water aft, 
having a sharp-rising hollow floor and a clean run. 
She was built by Louis Winde, a Swede , at one 
time member of the firm of Winde & Clinkard. 
Mr. Winde evidently borrowed a few ideas on the 


74 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT . 

subject from the famous pilot-boats of the Scandi- 
navian peninsula. Their resemblance to many of 
our deep-keel yachts suggests that the Swedish 
and American yacht-builders were proceeding 
upon similar lines in applying the principles of 
naval architecture. It is a noteworthy fact that 
the America was once beaten by the Swedish yacht 
Sverige. 

Great beam and great depth were the prom- 
inent characteristics of the Coquette , aided by 
iron ballast carried low. Each yacht in her 
own district had outsailed every thing, and it 
was therefore as champions hitherto without a 
rival that the two yachts were matched against 
each other for a purse of one thousand dollars. 
Owing to her larger dimensions, aside from her 
great powers, it seemed to be a foregone conclu- 
sion that the Maria would carry off the prize. But 
the wind was blowing fresh from north-east, 
obliging the taking in of a reef or two. The boats 
started from a buoy in Gedney’s Channel. On the 
outward run, going free, the Maria walked aw r ay 
from her rival ; but when they came up on the 
wind, with a heavy chop running, the Coquette not 
only made up the distance lost, but won by four 
minutes and forty seconds without time allowance. 
The Maria was afterward rigged into a schooner, 
and foundered in the Gulf Stream, being altogether 
unfitted for cruising in blue water. 

While these events were firing the enthusiasm of 
^1 ) true sailors, another great ship-builder was 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 75 

aiding to give prominence to American seaman- • 
ship, to stimulate interest in the noble sport of 
yachting, and to immortalize the American yacht. 
This was George Steers — a name identified on 
both continents with the highest achievements of 
ship-building. He was the son of David Steers, 
a native of the Isle of Jersey, at one time 
captain in the British service, and also a designer 
of ship-models. After he came to the United 
States he found employment in our navy, and was 
the first who had charge of the Navy Yard at 
Washington. George Steers, whose achievements 
mark an era in American yachting, was a man of 
genius — not so much, perhaps, in originating new 
principles, as in seizing the essential points of the 
various ideas then floating in the air, as it were, 
and suggested, in more or less degree, in the mod- 
els of contemporary builders. He harmonized 
them in a definite and nearly perfect type, which 
has been followed, with slight modifications or 
idiosyncrasies, in most American yachts since 1852. 
George Steers was not so much an inventor as an 
organizer of principles of naval construction. The 
famous America exhibited about every principle 
followed by the American ship-builder, except the 
centre-board, and that he employed in many of his 
other yachts, notably the lovely fleet-footed sloop- 
yacht Julia , since then changed into a schooner, 
and later appearing again as a sloop. To him we 
may also attribute, perhaps, the perfection of the V- 
stern, hitherto a very beautiful feature of American 


76 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

yachts, but now being superseded by the long taper- 
ing overhang. The long heel, keel rising forward, 
long forward section and sharp floor, and full mid- 
ship section had, it is true, been already employed 
in the prahus and other vessels of the East Indies, 
but this did not detract from the merit due the 
American builders, as they made a new and, doubt- 
less with them original, application of these 
principles. 

George Steers made his first hit with the cat-boat 
Manhattan. He then produced a number of very 
able pilot-boats, such as the Mary Taylor and 
George Steers. The latter was lost on the Jersey 
shore in a gale of wind, with all on board. The 
famous America was built for Commodore John C. 
Stevens, one of the founders of the New York 
Yacht Club, who was always identified with the 
encouragement of yachting in America, and to 
whom it owes more than to almost any other of our 
yachtsmen, until the advent of General Paine. 
Wearing a huge, broad-brimmed hat, he might often 
be seen steering a yacht in the summer breezes of 
New York Bay. The America was originally under- 
sparred, with raking masts, and was rigged like other 
American schooner-yachts of the time, with main and 
fore sails, a single jib whose foot was laced to a boom, 
and a small main-gaff top-sail. She now carries two 
topmasts and jib-boom, according to the present 
fashion with our schooners, and her masts have been 
stepped with less rake. After the great race when 
she carried off the trophy of the Queen’s Cup, she 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 77 

was owned for a time by Lord de Blaquiere. 
George Steers also built the steamer Adriatic and 
the screw frigate Niagara. It may be added here 
that the family ability for naval construction has 
been further illustrated by Henry Steers, his 
nephew, who designed the Idaho , at first a steamer, 
and afterward a sailing-ship. Under canvas she 
made the fastest voyage recorded from New York 
to Rio. 

Since the historic race of the America at Cowes, 
has occurred the ocean race of the Fleetwing , Vesta 
and Henrietta , in 1867, for a sweepstakes of 
$65,000, which was won by the latter, owned by Mr. 
James Gordon Bennett. In 1870 the Dauntless was 
beaten by the English schooner Cambria y owned by 
Mr. Ashbury, in a race to New York. In 1871, the 
same gentleman brought over the Livonia schooner 
to race for the Queen’s Cup with the New York 
yachts, and was badly beaten. In 1887 Oat Daunt- 
less commanded by that veteran seaman, Captain 
Samuels, raced across the Atlantic with the Coronet , 
and although coming in second accomplished the 
extraordinary run of 328 miles in twenty-four 
hours. 

These trans- Atlantic races do not seem to have 
decided any principle or resulted in any thing else 
except to keep up the esprit de corps of our yachts- 
men. But the sport has been pursued with fluctua- 
ting although growing interest, as is indicated by 
the fact that the number of well-established yacht 
clubs has increased in fourteen years from thirty- 


78 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

five to seventy-eight, and the American Yacht List 
for 1887, although incomplete, gives the names of 
2,671 sail and steam yachts. Many large and 
expensive yachts have also been constructed dur- 
ing this period, although the tendency has been 
rather toward the production of small and inex- 
pensive yachts, to be sailed by amateurs or Corinth- 
ian sailors, thus placing an otherwise costly sport 
within reach of many who have aquatic tastes — a 
result which can not be too highly commended, as 
it tends to incline our young men to cultivate their 
health and develop their energies, besides increas- 
ing the number of those on whom our navy could 
depend in case of foreign complications. This may 
also be called emphatically the age of the cat-boat, a 
rig peculiarly American, and requiring for its fullest 
action a broad and rather full model. The cat- 
boats have also become popular in England, where 
they are called una boats, after the famous Una, 
built by Robert Fish, of Brooklyn, and taken to 
England in 1852. 

A peculiarly American craft is a flat, open sloop- 
boat, originally built at Brooklyn, and sometimes 
called a penny bridge boat. The genuine Penny 
Bridger averages twenty-eight feet in length, with 
about twelve feet beam and thirty inches depth. 
They have hardly any bilge, rising with scarcely a 
bend to the rail. The mast is about forty-one feet 
long, and the combined length of the foot of the 
jib averages seventy feet. A strong outrigger 
extends five feet from the stern for the mainsheet 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 79 

block and traveler. They of course have centre- 
boards and carry sand-bags and live ballast. In a 
race, from twenty to thirty men may be seen hang- 
ing on the weather side of a Penny Bridger. A 
similar racing-boat is also popular on the Dela- 
ware at Philadelphia. 

Accompanying this condition of affairs has been 
an impulse to experiment, and to produce models 
or mechanical conveniences adapted to meet spec- 
ial wants. Those who object to this or that model 
should remember that the whole process of naval 
construction is a beautiful example of adaptation of 
means to ends. As in the truest architecture, or in 
the human form itself, so every line, whether of 
hull or sails, in a ship, however pleasing and har- 
monious to the eye, was first and should be still 
employed with a distinct purpose of utility. 

One of the features of this period in the history 
of American yachting has been the invention of the 
sharpie. Originally intended to float among the 
oyster-beds in the shallows of Long Island Sound, 
a disposition has been shown to bring it into favor 
for yachting. It is really the old-fashioned punt 
greatly enlarged, with finer ends, fitted with centre- 
board and cabin, an overhanging stern and a rud- 
der attached to a spindle. The original sharpie 
carries one or two three-cornered sprit-sails. But 
they have also been rigged as sloops, schooners, 
and yawls. They are very fast and stiff, and are 
excellently adapted to the purpose for which they 
were designed. 


80 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

The skip-jack is another curious and by no means 
ungainly craft, evolved out of the sharpie by add- 
ing to the latter a rising floor. The advantage of 
the skip-jack lies in the fact that, while exhibiting 
respectable sea-going qualities, both as to safety 
and speed, and almost the same amount of interior 
space as other yachts, she can be constructed at 
much less expense, her frame being composed of 
straight timbers. Of course, the centre-board is an 
indispensable feature of the skip-jack model. 
Another peculiar craft occasionally seen in our har- 
bors is the boat made without frame timbers, other 
than the keel, stem, and stern-posts and fashion- 
pieces. The planking is made of unusual thickness, 
and the streaks are but two to three inches in width, 
and bolted together through and through so tightly 
that calking is unnecessary. A large ship, the New 
Era, was actually built on this plan at East Boston 
a few years ago, but did not seem to have strength 
to resist the strain of heavy freight. 

Iron and steel have also been largely introduced 
here of late years for sailing as well as for 
steam yachts. The famous cutter-sloop Vindex , 
launched in 1870, and the sloop Mischief , both 
designed by Mr. A. Cary Smith, which have 
won such an excellent record, were among 
the first to popularize this material for Ameri- 
can sailing-yachts. The rival of the Mis- 
chief has been the Grade ; she is fast off the 
wind ; but no yacht has ever been altered so fre- 
quently. The iron plates of the Vindex are only 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 81 

three-sixteenths of an inch in thickness. But she 
is still sound, after sixteen years of use. Her 
great draft and stability, aided by four tons of 
lead on her keel, her imposing mast, low free-board, 
fine lines, jaunty rig, and general capacity, make 
her still one of the most striking of American 
yachts. The Priscilla and Volunteer are also 
among our prominent metal yachts. 

Nothing could be more opposite to the solid 
qualities of the Vindex than the midge-like “ skim- 
mer of the sea ” called the catamaran, another 
recent nautical invention. The principle illustrated 
in the catamaran was borrowed from the Pacific, 
where the islanders for ages have sailed in large 
double canoes, propelled by a triangular sail of 
matting supported on two light spars of bamboo. 
But Mr. John B. Herreshoff, of Bristol, Rhode 
Island, conceived the idea of adopting the double- 
hull principle in our waters, and first attracted gen- 
eral attention to the subject by the catamaran 
Amaryllis, which was exhibited at the Centennial. 
The turbulent waters of the Atlantic are not favor- 
able to a craft which demands great lightness of 
construction, the hulls requiring to move separ- 
ately. But Mr. Herreshoff has succeeded in solv- 
ing the problem so far as regards inside cruising. 
Each of the hulls is completely decked and has a 
centre-board and rudder of its own. By a very 
ingenious contrivance the two rudders can be 
moved by one tiller. The hulls are joined by 
traverse beams and galvanized iron rods, trussed, 


82 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

and so nicely supported with elastic arms and links 
that each boat is separately swayed by the action 
of the water. A car, with seats, is firmly attached 
to the cross bars. The sloop rig is the one adopted 
in these catamarans. They are generally from 
thirty to forty feet in length and have become 
popular for smooth-water sailing. The catamaran 
can not lie as close to the wind as a swift centre- 
board sloop, and is slow in staying, but off the 
wind her speed exceeds that of any other vessel of 
her size afloat. The great stability offered by the 
double hull makes it practically impossible to cap- 
size it. The catamaran is liable, however, to go 
down head foremost, or to sink through the strain- 
ing of one or both hulls. If employed in smooth 
water, in harbors, or .on lakes and rivers where 
winds are very puffy, it is a far safer boat for lub- 
bers to use than any single-hulled sail-boat. 

To Mr. Herreshoff we are also indebted for a 
type of yacht which for certain qualities has not 
had its superior in America. He is and has been 
totally blind since he was thirteen years old, but 
few men living have equaled him for versatile inge- 
nuity and success in certain branches of marine 
architecture. 

From the outset Herreshoff’s sailing-yachts 
were marked by lines so peculiarly his own that it 
would be impossible to confound them with the 
models of other builders, although their great suc- 
cess and popularity has at last led the yachtmen of 
New England to imitate them frequently, at least 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 83 

in part. They are characterized by a long and full 
midship section, moderate dead rise (the now fam- 
ous Shadow has a sharper floor than most of the 
Herreshoff yachts), a clean run, the run and futtock 
timbers being invariably attached to the deadwood 
and keel almost at right angles, without any of the 
gentle, curved modeling or the hollow floor so com- 
mon in foreign and many American yachts, and 
carried to the farthest limit in the English lead- 
keeled cutter. These yachts are further charac- 
terized by a high free-board and great sheer, both 
fore and aft, the forward curve following a para- 
bolic line, which begins about a third of the length 
from the stern. The blunt stem is also slightly 
curved, the quarters are rather heavy, the trunk 
and wash board are high almost to clumsiness, and 
the standing-room extends so far aft that the rud- 
der-head is inside instead of on deck, as is usual 
with small American yachts, and the rudder is of 
uncommon dimensions. These yachts have been, 
with but two or three exceptions, invariably fur- 
nished with centre-boards, and yet have good draft 
and a deep, rockered keel. Their long bowsprit 
curves downward and they are heavily sparred, giv- 
ing the impression of being top-heavy, and when 
one first sails in one of these yachts this impression 
seems to be confirmed, for they are tender-sided, 
and a light breeze at once carries them well over ; 
but, like the English cutter, when they find their 
bearings they go no farther, and accidents to them 
have been exceedingly rare. 


84 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 


Notwithstanding their full body, the Herreshoff 
sailing yachts have been very successful as 
racers. The lightness with which they are built 
aids this result, while unfitting them for heavy 
weather. In a race in Boston harbor in 1870, 
the prizes in each of the three classes were won 
by these yachts. Herreshoff has been most suc- 
cessful with small yachts, especially sloops and 
cat-boats. The Shadow , the only competing yacht 
which won a race from the English cutter Madge 
in 1881, is one of Herreshoff ’s crack models and 
one of the last he designed before taking to the 
building of steam-yachts. She has won no end of 
prizes, and continues to win them. Whatever may 
be the merits of the case, it is certain that in eating 
into the wind she fairly surpassed the Madge in the 
first race, when both yachts were on the port tack 
after rounding the buoy. On that tack the Madge 
did not feel the loss of her starboard topmast-stay, 
which it has been alleged was the cause of her 
defeat. 

At present we are in the midst of a great transi- 
tion movement, which has been hastened, but 
not originated, by the Madge s success in 1881. 
Years ago the writer predicted, in talking with 
Mr. Herreshoff, that a movement in favor of 
narrower and deeper yachts, with double head-sail, 
was not far off, because after going to one extreme, 
there would follow the reaction natural to an active 
people like ours, unsatisfied long to remain fixed to 
one idea, and also because of certain advantages 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT . 

inherent to the deep boat which we had not suf- 
ficiently considered while inshore yachting was 
most in vogue, but must regard, if long cruises 
were to become more general among our yachtsmen. 
Commodore Centre about the same time gave pub- 
lic expression to similar views. Not long after that 
the building of the Vindex gave emphasis to these 
predictions. The change has come at last, like 
every thing in this rapid age and country, with an 
energetic rapidity that threatens to proceed to an 
extreme as absurd as that alleged against the advo- 
cates of the extreme “ skimming-dish ” type of 
yacht. Most of those who favor a change incline 
to a compromise in one or more details. While, for 
example, the fixed bowsprit is still retained, the 
large single jib is fast giving place to fore-sail and 
jib, called double head-sail, or split jib. Flush 
decks are also coming into fashion. Double-top- 
ping lifts and other minor imitations of English rig 
have been adopted, while in the modeling of the 
hull greater draft and metal added to the keel are 
innovations coming rapidly into acceptance, espe- 
cially in Massachusetts waters. It is curious to look 
at some of our genuine American sloops and 
schooners, whose owners have become infected by 
the epidemic of foreign ideas, with heavy additions 
of iron patched upon keels that were never intended 
to carry them. The introduction of the flush deck, 
while it adds greatly to the looks of a trim yacht, 
as a trunk can hardly be considered ornamental, 
of necessity implies greater depth of model, but of 


86 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 


course must be confined to yachts of some size, 
unless, indeed, many of the principles hitherto fol- 
lowed in American yacht-building are entirely 
abandoned. The first notable attempt to compro- 
mise the two types was the Valkyr , designed by Mr. 
A. Cary Smith. Although a centre-board sloop, 
she draws six feet on a length of forty-six and 
seven-tenths feet on the water line. While broad 
amidships, her lines taper off to a fine narrow ellip- 
tical counter. Her bow is sharp but wedge-shaped, 
and her head-rig is, like that of the Regifia , a long } 
straight “ horn ” of a bowsprit and two jibs. Her 
sheer plan suggests the cutter, while her interior 
plan is American, and her rig is modified by Eng- 
lish patterns. She carries seven tons of her ballast 
in lead on her keel. 

It must be admitted that the movement for the 
introducing the cutter here, or for modifications of 
foreign build and rigs, was at first slow in coming ; 
the tide, after it turned, was singularly slow in mak- 
ing itself felt when we consider the rapidity with 
which every change of opinion grows in our age and 
especially in our country. The Vindex , designed 
by Commodore Centre and built in 1871, excited 
surprise and a smile of contempt on the face of 
many a yachtsman. It was not until 1878 that the 
Murid was built by Piepgras, after a design fur- 
nished by Harvey, of England, and then almost 
before one was aware of the movement, such en- 
thusiastic experts as Mr. J. Roosevelt Schuyler and 
Mr. Kuhnhardt had initiated a genuine cutter fever, 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 87 

and the yachtsmen of America found themselves 
involved in a brisk warfare concerning the merits 
of different types of model and rig scarcely less 
vehement, acrimonious or unfair than the dis- 
cussions of theological schools. Although some 
have entered into this contest with cool heads and 
an impartial desire to do justice to merit wher- 
ever found, in too many cases prejudice has guided 
the opinions and pens of those engaged in this 
conflict of types. While this is of course human 
and natural enough, and gives more zest to the 
discussion, it is not the best way to settle the ques- 
tion ; it should rather be weighed calmly and fairly, 
as it is not so much a question of sentiment as one 
of common sense and mathematical and experi- 
mental demonstration. 

The Muriel has been followed in rapid succes- 
sion by such cutters as the Yolande , the Oriva , the 
Beduin , and the Edith , originally a yawl ; and a num- 
ber have been imported from England, such as the 
Stranger , the Madge , the Clara, the Circe , and the 
Delvyn , the latter a beautiful but extreme example 
of the deep-draft, narrow, keel-leaded type, being 
five feet four inches wide, to a length over all of 
forty-two feet, or a length of thirty-three feet six 
inches on the water-line, having nearly six feet of 
head-room. Indeed, cutters and yawls, big and 
little, are now seen everywhere in our waters, the 
latter rig being an especial favorite on the Pacific 
coast. 

But many staunch yachtsmen of our clubs still 


88 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

adhere faithfully to the beamy American sloops or 
schooners, partly through patriotism, partly through 
a genuine conviction that this is the best type yet 
invented. Such beautiful and successful sloops as 
the Fanny , the Fanita , the Mischief, the Thetis , the 
Athlon , the Priscilla , the Atlantic , the Shamrock , 
the Titania , and the Crocodile ; such schooners as 
the Montauk , the Fortuna, the Coronet , the 6V<zy- 
/iw^, and the Sachem , all constructed since 1879, 
show that the essential qualities of the American 
type are still predominant in our yacht clubs. 

But the most remarkable event in the history of 
American yachting since the victory of the America 
in 1851 has been the series of races for the Queen’s 
Cup in 1885 and 1886 in New York harbor, and the 
character of the vessels which have contended for 
the cup in those races. These events are so 
recent that all are familiar with the general details, 
the results, and the dimensions and models of the 
contesting yachts. Never in the history of yachting 
has such popular interest in aquatic sports been 
displayed to such a degree as in these races, 
especially the first one between the Genesta and 
the Puritan ; never did the public turn out in such 
numbers and with such enthusiasm to witness a sail- 
ing contest ; never was such munificence dis- 
played by capitalists in preparing for such races, 
no less than five sloops of the largest size being 
built expressly for the purpose of protecting the 
cup. 

But the most remarkable circumstance connected 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 89 

with these recent races has been the fact that, when 
the occasion required, the man appeared possessing 
the qualifications essential to keep up the interest 
and promote the progress of yachting. This is 
exactly in accordance with the laws which regulate 
human development. The individual referred to 
is, of course, Edward Burgess, a young man who, 
from comparative obscurity, has in two years sprung 
into prominence and achieved a fame as perma- 
nent as that of Steers, or, for that matter, of Noah, 
the first American yacht-builder. In claiming that 
venerable naval architect and navigator as a fellow- 
countryman, we follow the line of argument laid 
down by the Dutch historian. If Noah was the 
first Dutchman, as claimed, then a fortiori he is the 
first American, for not only are many of his Dutch 
descendants in America, but it is credibly ac- 
cepted that all Americans are his lineal descen- 
dants ; that being the case, it requires no argument 
to show him to have been the first American ship- 
builder. Like many good cruising yachtsmen, he 
took his family with him on his cruise, and also a 
sufficient supply of live stock ; when she shoaled her 
water, his yacht took the ground as easily as a centre- 
board sloop on the New Jersey flats at the ebb ; 
which seems to indicate priority for the American 
type. Like some of our yachtsmen, he showed like- 
wise a kindly appreciation for the sunny vintage of 
the ports at which he touched, being altogether a 
genial fellow, and a typical yachtsman no less than 
an admirable ship-builder. 


go EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN VACIIT. 

As regards Mr. Burgess’ latest venture, the ma- 
jestic Volunteer , whatever be the result in racing her 
formidable competitor, the Thistle , he would still be 
entitled to all praise as the inventor of a remarkable 
type of naval construction, for his two famous 
yachts, Puritan and MayJlo7ver, have already forced 
the English to reconstruct their rules and produce 
a vessel which nearly approaches the principles 
followed by Mr. Burgess in his masterly models. 

The extreme cuttermen, that is, those who are 
uncompromisingly in favor of English yachts, and 
who see no good in the American yacht whether 
keel or centre-board, claim that Mr. Burgess and 
other contemporary and progressive American 
yacht designers owe the recent successes of- our 
“ single stickers ” to a careful copying of English 
ideas and inventions. That several points have 
been borrowed from English rig is indisputable, 
such as the double head-sail, jibs of different sizes, 
the stepping of the mast more amid-ships, housing 
the topmast, carrying the mainsail more inboard, 
and the like. So far as speed is concerned all these 
imitations are of little importance in enhancing the 
swiftness of our yachts, although they may add to 
safety and efficiency in handling. Everyone knows 
that the less canvas is divided the better the 
sails hold the wind, and the closer a sloop will 
point. The close pointing of English cutters we 
consider due to a different mode of handling rather 
than to superior ability in the ship. If given more 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 91 

“full ” they might sail better than when too closely 
nipped. 

As regards imitations of form and construction, it 
is true that Mr. Burgess has tapered off the quarters, 
given a finer run and a long overhang aft, imitating 
the pointed and, as we think, ungraceful tail of the 
modern English cutter. But a vessel does not sail 
with her counter, and if by lengthening his overhang 
he gains more deck room for handling his big main- 
sail, he has not yet departed essentially from the 
distinctive principles of the American model, beam 
for initial stability, the centre-board for eating to 
windward instead of extreme draught, greater sheer 
and less freeboard, and less wall-sided, and show- 
ing a richer, more affluent, graceful and buoyant 
curve in the midship section. The Volunteer is 
in fact a finer reproduction of the first American 
type, the pinkie. The lead on the keel does 
not impress us as especially an English inven- 
tion except in the method of strengthening the 
floor frame, the sharp futtock timbers with iron 
frames curving rapidly to meet the vast keel of 
lead. We have seen that the Maria had outside 
lead on her bilge, before it was tried by Fife on the 
famous Fiona , and Samoena, an idea which in 
England originated with Dan Hatcher. Small 
American yachts have for many years carried 
ballast on their keels. A comparison of measure- 
ments shows at a glance that Mr. Burgess, while 
inventing superb marine types of his own, has still 
carefully differentiated between the American and 


92 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

the recent English models. The Puritan has 
80 feet waterline, 93 feet over all, 23 feet beam, 
8.2 feet draft ; the Mayflower has 85 feet water- 
line, 100 feet over all, 23.6 feet berm, 10 feet draft ; 
the Volunteer has 85.10 feet waterline, 106 feet over 
all, 23.2 feet beam, 10 feet draft ; the Galatea 
(English) has 90.6 feet waterline, 102.6 feet over 
all, 15 feet beam, 13.6 feet draft ; the Thistle 
(English) has 85 feet waterline, 105 feet over all, 
20.3 feet beam, 14. 1 feet draft. It is evident at a 
glance that Mr. Burgess has uniformly kept in view 
in all these noble sloops the importance of beam 
for sail carrying power and stability, while on the 
other hand the new English champion Thistle has 
very markedly departed from the narrow beam 
which has been claimed as one of the great dis- 
tinctive and essential advantages peculiar to the 
English type of the last decade. The concession 
made by the designer of the Thistle is far greater 
than any yet made by Mr. Burgess or any of our 
genuine American yacht builders, and practically 
amounts to begging the entire question. 

Two points are to be noted in this connection ; 
one is, that notwithstanding all that has been urged 
to the contrary, there is no distinctively English 
type of yacht model. The cutter-rig is not essen- 
tially English ; it is as much French and has 
changed but little since the year 1800. But as 
regards the hull, the English yacht designers have 
varied far more in fifty years than the American 
designers. The so-called cod’s head and mackerel 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 93 

tail model, broad in the eyes, with great beam and 
short entrance, was only gradually abandoned 
when the Mosquito in 1847 by a long, hollow entrance 
showed not only a new departure but- a borrowing 
of hints both from the Swedish pilot boats and the 
Japanese row boats. The Titania , designed by 
Scott Russell, with a slightly rockered keel rising 
towards the bow, increased sheer and beam carried 
aft, showed still further modification. All this time 
the beam of the English yacht was but little less 
than that of an American vessel. The success of 
the America led to several attempts to copy her 
“ points.” Every variety of rig was adopted during 
that period, the top-sail schooner, the brig, the 
yawl, the lugger, the ketch, besides that of the 
cutter. 

As yacht races became more fashionable every 
avenue was sought to win prizes by keeping 
within the absurd tonnage rules and yet gaining 
sailing power. It is owing to this fact and this 
fact alone that the present narrow, deep, lead- 
keeled yacht of England came into being and not 
in the least because it is really superior in all 
respects to the beamy American yacht, as so many 
loudly proclaim. Beam and length being alone 
taxed, and it being discovered that by lessening the 
former and increasing the latter, with great added 
draft and ballast carried low to compensate for loss 
of stability, increased sail power could be gained 
without proportionate increase of tonnage, the 
present type was gradually evolved and a class of 


94 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 

deep narrow racers produced called tonnage cheat- 
ers. Nobody pretended at the outset that there 
was any other object in developing this extreme 
type of English yacht. Now that it has been 
found that the swiftest of the English flyers can- 
not outsail the crack American boats and that the 
utmost limit has been reached in this direction, a 
reaction has set in. The old rules have been aban- 
doned, and length and sail plan are the factors of 
measurement now required by the English yacht 
clubs as in our clubs. It is evident that in a few years 
the proud pacers of the present extreme English 
type, notwithstanding the stately beauty of some of 
the yachts it has produced, will be a thing of the 
past. Extreme draft and immense keels of lead 
will be abandoned to small yachts in which head 
room can only be obtained either by depth or a 
lofty trunk cabin. The excessive cost of clinching' 
fifty to eighty tons of lead to an intricate frame 
expressly prepared for it has added greatly to the 
expense of yacht construction, a fact to be earnestly 
deprecated as tending ultimately to retard the 
extension of one of the most manly and useful of 
sports. 

Thus we see the absurdity of much of the clamor 
which of late years has been sedulously raised 
against the American yacht. The English narrow 
hull has been developed as a result of circum- 
stances and not necessarily because it was the best 
form ; with a change in those circumstances the 
type is destined to great modification and perhaps 


EVOLUTION OF THE A MER /CAN YACHT. 95 

ultimate extinction. It has proved of advantage in 
one respect by stimulating a revival of interest in 
sail yachts and the production of a number of 
ships by our leading designers which have pre- 
sented the finest combination of advantages the 
world has yet seen. 

In spite of all these facts such has been the per- 
sistent and intemperate outcry against the Ameri- 
can yacht in certain quarters that some have been 
almost inclined literally to give up the ship and, 
forgetting our glorious record, to believe that 
Americans must go to England to learn how to 
build yachts, both for speed and seaworthiness. 
On the latter point the American yacht has come in 
for an absurd and illogical share of abuse. It has 
been forgotten that our yachts have carried the 
American flag in every sea ; that an American 
sloop yacht only fifty-three feet over all crossed the 
Atlantic in mid-winter ; that an American schooner 
only forty-four feet over all and with but two feet 
of freeboard has been to Honolulu .from Boston ; 
that our Baltimore clippers encountered every 
weather ; that our “ bankers ” ride the worst gales 
of March, and that our pilot boats with yacht-like 
models, laugh at the December hurricanes from 
the Delaware capes to the Georges. In spite of 
these facts we have been told with “ damnable 
iteration ” that our models were mere skimming 
dishes fit only for smooth land-locked harbors ; 
some of them may be, but not all, nor half, nor a 
third. Perish the thought ! better ships than have 


96 EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT . 

been turned out from our yards for one hundred 
years have never been seen. In each generation, for 
every ship the old world could point to with pride 
we could exhibit one that would “ go it one better.” 
It is time that we pluck up heart of grace and 
allow no more dust to be thrown in our eyes by 
foreign arrogance, whether in the matter of free- 
trade, of self-government, of fighting or of ship- 
building. 

All marine types are the result of evolution ; as 
in all human inventions, ideas are borrowed to reap- 
pear under new adaptations. The English borrow ; 
we borrow ; the inventive genius is seen in the 
capacity to assimilate and adapt old ideas to new 
circumstances. Furthermore it should be remem- 
bered that all rules of measurement can only be 
general and arbitrary, although it is now coming to 
be generally acknowledged that no racing rules can 
approximate justice unless taxing the spread of 
canvas carried, as well as the dimensions of the 
hull. This is the latest phase adopted in this 
knotty question, and will result in the end in 
greatly reducing if not altogether obliterating the 
difference between English and American types. 

As to the question of the beauty of relative types 
and rigs, that is surely a matter of taste as futile 
and as difficult to settle by discussion as if two men 
were to try to decide by argument the relative 
beauty of a brunette and a blonde. Utility is 
another question. The single sticker, whether sloop 
or cutter, is undoubtedly the best rig for beating to 


EVOLUTION OF THE AMERICAN YACHT. 97 

windward ; but the merits of other rigs are so 
nicely balanced that no demonstration can abso- 
lutely prove one to be preferable to the others under 
all circumstances. The Italian fisherman pre- 
fers the lateen rig ; the Frenchman the lugger 
and ketch ; the Englishman the cutter and yawl ; 
the American for two centuries has found nothing 
better than the schooner, for vessels over a certain 
size intended for all around work. It is a question 
for taste, habit and circumstances to decide. For- 
tunate is it that it is so, as the world’s marine is 
thereby far more interesting, far less monotonous. 
What a dreary world it would be if all people were 
alike, if all spoke the same tongue, thought the 
same thoughts, built the same ships ! 

For the rest, the discussion of the relative merits 
of types and rigs would be more profitable if we 
would first inquire for what purpose a yacht is 
intended, whether for racing or cruising, for blue 
water or harbor sailing. Adaptation lies at the 
basis of the whole question, and it is idle to expect 
to invent a model that will be equally good in rough 
and in smooth water, for cruising and for racing, 
for deep water and for shallow sounds. Few, how- 
ever, will refuse to admit that some of the yachts 
designed and built in the United States during the 
last decade have come very near to realizing this 
ideal. 































































i 















STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 







STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 



TEAM-YACHTS originated, it is said, in 


France, where any sort of taste for yachting is 
purely an exotic, and where the sport would natu- 
rally be first adopted in a tentative manner, and in 
the way least likely to require skill or involve dan- 
ger. As evidence of this we may cite the extraor- 
dinary circumstance that the French yacht which 
was sent over to America during the Centennial, 
and attracted some attention, was not only built in 
England, but was actually manned and navigated 
by an English crew, the owner being the only 
Frenchman on board ! The most natural kind of 
steam-yacht is really the one first adopted in Eng- 
land, and consists of an ordinary schooner-yacht 
rigged with full sail-power. Amidships is placed 
a small auxiliary engine, of but small horse-power, 
called, in sea slang, “ a kettle." When not in use, 
the funnel lowers to the deck, and the feathering or 
hoisting screw scarcely affects her speed under sail. 
Though we can hardly imagine that this arrange- 
ment would be quite satisfactory to the true sailor, 
half of whose love for the sea consists in the fun 
and excitement of manoeuvring a sailing-ship, yet, 


102 


STEAM -YACHTING IN AMERICA . 


in this rapid age, even to the true sailor, there are 
possible advantages in this arrangement on a long 
cruise, when drifting through the “ doldrums ” or 
“ horse latitudes," or beating up for weeks against 
the trades. Another kind of steam-yacht is the 
class to which the celebrated yacht Sunbeam be- 
longs — a genuine compromise between sail and 
steam. The lines resemble those of a steamship, 
and a fair amount of steam-power is displayed. At 
the same time, canvas enough is spread to enable 
the vessel to depend wholly upon it when the wind 
is fair. Of this description was the unfortunate 
Jeannette. This class of steam-yachts is now quite 
popular in England, and seem likely to become so 
in the United States. 

The third class of steam-yachts, and the only 
class hitherto employed to any extent in American 
waters, is one that depends wholly on steam-power, 
and may be used both for in-shore cruising or for 
long voyages, although naturally best suited to the 
former purpose. It is true a few of our steam- 
yachts make a pretence of carrying sail, but it is 
only for looks, or to steady the vessel in a sea-way. 
The only danger possible to such a craft is one that 
can occur only through recklessness or gross igno- 
rance. We refer to the reckless use of high-pres- 
sure engines or worn-out boilers, and to overload- 
ing with passengers. 

There seem to be only two or three steam- 
yachts in America chiefly dependent upon canvas — 
the schooners Promise and Reva , which carry an 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 103 


auxiliary screw — we are at liberty to consider, 
therefore, that only one class is included in 
any further remarks we shall make on the 
subject — the steam-yacht propelled chiefly by 
steam. These are already very numerous in 
America, but in most cases they consist of little 
more than a shapely, undecked launch, twenty- 
five to forty feet in length, with a hot and 
fussy little engine amidships. These spider-like 
craft, darting to and fro about our lakes, rivers, 
and harbors, have doubtless given enjoyment to 
many. There is no great variety in the construc- 
tion of these third-class yachts. If they have a 
cabin, their plan consists of a small engine-room 
amidships, a saloon aft, and a pilot or wheel-house 
forward, all slightly depressed below the deck level 
and under one long roof. There is no beauty in 
this arrangement, the deck being almost altogether 
covered by the house, but the trimmings of the 
saloon are often as elegant or costly as could be 
desired. A size larger than this is the steam-yacht, 
fifty to seventy feet in length, of which the Herre- 
shoff Steam Manufacturing Company, among 
others, has turned out several hundred, averaging 
sixty feet in length. To this class belongs the 
graceful yacht Camilla, kept by the late Dr. J. 
G. Holland at “ Bonnie-Castle,” his home on the 
St. Lawrence. 

Another typical size, ninety to one hundred 
feet in length, although, of course, not con- 
fined to these builders, has been illustrated by 


104 STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 

many examples at these celebrated yacht works. 
But these have been their three favorite sizes, the 
number they have turned out amounting to over 
one thousand. The hundred-foot yacht is intended 
for coast-wise cruising, having dining-saloon, state- 
rooms, etc., and could hardly be surpassed in its 
commodiousness by any thing of this size. It is 
furnished with a light schooner rig, that is obvi- 
ously for looks rather than use. But the great 
feature of these yachts is the boiler and engine, or 
motive power, which is wholly an invention of the 
above-named firm. 

The brothers, John B. and Nathaniel G. 
Herreshoff, are the grandsons of a Prussian 
engineer of merit who settled in this country. 
Their father was and continues to be greatly 
interested in ships. John passed his boyhood sail- 
ing boats on Narragansett Bay, but at the age of 
thirteen had the great misfortune to become totally 
blind. This did not check his interest in sailing 
yachts. With some one in the boat to warn him 
when approaching the land, he can steer a sloop in 
a race to windward and win. In 1862, Mr. John 
B. Herreshoff started a yacht-building yard in part- 
nership with Mr. Dexter S. Stone, one of our most 
accomplished yachtsmen. This partnership was 
dissolved in 1870, and soon after Nathaniel Herre- 
shoff, who had obtained a sound scientific education 
at the Massachusetts School of Technology, en- 
tered into partnership with his brother. Up to 
1869 Mr. John B. Herreshoff and his partners 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 105 

turned off upward of two thousand sailing-yachts, 
often merely cat-boats and rarely above fifty feet in 
length, but of a thoroughly individual type and of 
a quality which carried the reputation of the blind 
yacht-builder of Bristol, Rhode Island, all over the 
world. If he consulted his tastes he would still be 
constructing sailing-yachts. But manifest destiny 
did not intend his efforts to stop there. 

In 1869 this enterprising firm, ever on the alert 
to keep pace with the age, and to the full as canny 
in making money as in modeling yachts, began to 
turn their attention to the subject of steam-yachts, 
beginning first with the steam-launches that have 
given them a reputation in England nearly equal 
to that they hold here. Their success would have 
been insured even if it had depended only on 
modeling. But they had the great good-fortune 
and genius to invent an engine of a more compact 
and convenient kind than any yet employed in 
ships, together with a boiler altogether different 
from any in use — one literally safe from the 
danger of bursting. The steam-coil boiler, as 
it is called, was perfected about eleven years 
ago. 

The marine steam-engine employed by the Her- 
reshoff Company cannot be better described than in 
the official account of the famous Leila , which was 
under suspicion of being intended to smuggle fili- 
busters into Cuba. It is “ a compound condens- 
ing engine, with vertical cylinders placed side by 
side above the crank-shaft, and having their axes 


to6 s TEA M- ya ch ting in a m erica. 


in the vertical plane passing through its axis. The 
cylinders are direct acting, the outer head of the 
piston-rod being secured into a cross-head work- 
ing between guides in the engine frame, while the 
connecting-rod lies in direct extension between the 
cross-head journal and the crank-pin journal. The 
forward or small cylinder operates a lever which 
works the air-pump, the feed-pump, and the circu- 
lating pump, all of which are vertical, single acting, 
and have the same stroke of piston. The w axes of 
these pumps are in the same vertical plane. * 
* * The feed-pump and the circulating-pump 

are plunger-pumps. * * * The air-pump is a 

lifting-pump without a foot-valve. * * * The 

air-pump piston is not packed, but ground to a 
metallic fit in the brass barrel. * * * The 

engine frames, four in number, are each in a single 
casting and bolted to a bed-plate, which is also a 
single casting, extending under the entire length 
and breadth of the engine. The engine works with 
surface condensation. The surface condenser is 
composed of a single copper pipe placed on the out- 
side of the vessel beneath the water, and just about 
at the garboard stroke. The pipe commences on 
one side of the vessel abreast of the after, or large 
cylinder, extends to and around the stern-post, and 
thence along the opposite side of the vessel until 
abreast of the air-pump and forward cylinder.” It 
is not essential to go into further details here, but 
it may be well to add that the strength has been so 
judiciously distributed in this machine that the 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 107 

result has been extreme lightness, as well as great 
economy in the use of steam. 

But it is in the celebrated coil-boiler that the 
Herreshoffs have displayed the crowning effort of 
their genius, producing one of the most remarkable 
modifications in the employment of steam since the 
days of Watt and Fulton. Four objects have been 
obtained by the Herreshoff boiler, possessed by no 
other in existence ; it occupies less space ; takes 
less metal and less fuel than other* boilers ; steam 
can be produced from cold water in two to five 
minutes ; and it is non-explosive. These advan- 
tages are obvious in a yacht. Of course, until they 
have been tried on a large scale, there may be 
latent disadvantages. The peculiarity of the Her- 
reshoff boiler is that instead of being a tube of 
boiler iron over the furnaces, the furnace consists 
of a circular grate, around which is built a circular 
wall of brick, while around the masonry in turn is 
a continuous double coil of wrought-iron pipe. The 
hot gases from the furnaces circulate on every side 
of this pipe which contains the water that is to be 
turned into hot vapor or steam. The coil is sup- 
plied with water by a feed-pipe at the top, while 
the steam passes by another aperture near the top 
to the cylinder. The whole apparatus is sur- 
rounded by a casing of sheet iron and is conical in 
shape. 

The most important defect of this boiler is 
the impossibility of examining the interior of the 
coils, and the facility with which they are made 


1 08 STEAM - YA CH TING IN A MERIC A . 


foul, especially by water impregnated with lime- 
salts. This, however, is less rapidly developed in 
fresh than in salt water. But this defect can be 
largely remedied by an occasional dose of a solu- 
tion of soda and potash, which also tends to neu- 
tralize the fatty acids of the oils on the machinery. 
By this precaution a lining of black magnetic oxide 
of iron is gradually deposited, which is smooth and 
thoroughly resists the incrustation of salts. With 
this machinery the Herreshoff one-hundred-foot 
yacht is capable of achieving a maximum of twen- 
ty-two miles an hour with two hundred pounds of 
coal and only three men to take charge. This, of 
course, is with all the circumstances favorable, 
which very rarely occurs at sea. A steamer with a 
maximum speed of fifteen knots, of course never 
averages that in a voyage ; either she alters her 
trim by burning coal, or the wind and sea are 
ahead, or something else prevents. 

The greatest speed ever obtained by a steam- 
propelled vessel, considering the size, is un- 
doubtedly that reached by the Herreshoff Vedette 
boats built for the British government. They 
are required to steam fourteen knots, and 
actually steamed fifteen and one-eighth knots ; 
the boats of Mr. John Samuel White, of Cowes, 
who had made a specialty of this class of vessel, 
only attained thirteen and three-eighth knots, a 
very great velocity it may be granted. The dimen- 
sions of the latter are only forty-eight feet in length 
and nine feet beam, with a depth of five feet. The 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 109 

success of these boats depends partly on the light- 
ness of their construction and consequent moder- 
ate displacement, a cause which has also contrib- 
uted to the success of the Herreshoff sailing-yachts. 
The lightness of the boiler and machinery doubt- 
less aids the general result. To counteract their 
lightness of draft and to keep the propeller from 
“ kicking ” into the air in a sea way, the Herre- 
shoff steam-yachts generally have the screw de- 
pressed below the keel. It is protected by a skeg, 
or depressed convex projection of wood and cop- 
per, or copper alone. It extends as far as the rud- 
der-post, which turns upon it, the rudder being 
attached to it as to a spindle, one-fourth of its 
breadth from the forward edge, as in the rudder of 
a sharpie. 

The lines of the Herreshoff steam-yachts are 
exceedingly sharp and clean, showing a directness 
and a freedom from bulginess in all the lines which 
is very remarkable. The bow presents an acute 
wedge, without the slightest tendency to the wave 
line formerly so much valued by ship-builders 
when Stevens and Scott Russell employed it. These 
yachts are often composite, the frame being of 
angle-iron, excepting the stern and the stern-post 
and the planking, which are of wood. The Her- 
reshoff steam-yacht, take it in all its points, as a 
model for speed and for the completeness and un- 
rivaled merit of its propelling power, as well as for 
economy in the arrangement of space and in the 
running expenses — in a word, for attaining the end 


IIO 


STEAM- YACHTING IN AMERICA. 


desired in a small steam-yacht, is one of the com- 
pletest examples of mechanical and scientific gen- 
ius yet produced in the United States. 

But in size and splendor of interior appointments 
it must be said that these yachts do not yet ap- 
proach a number that have already been built in 
other American ship-yards. Out of a large num- 
ber of steam-yachts enrolled in our yacht clubs, 
a large number are considerably upward of 
one hundred feet long. Besides the Herreshoffs 
some of our leading sail and steam-yacht builders 
are Jas. Lennox, of South Brooklyn ; Samuel Pine, 
of Williamsburg ; Cramp & Sons, of Philadelphia ; 
John Roach & Son, of Chester and New York ; 
Ward, Stanton & Co., of Newburg ; Pusey & Jones, 
Harlan and Hollingsworth, of Wilmington ; C. R. 
Poillon, of Brooklyn ; D. J. Lawlor, of Boston, and 
G. Lawley & Son, of City Point, Boston. Of course 
many others among our ship-builders can turn out 
excellent work if models are given them, or even 
from their own models. Besides the better known 
yacht and general ship-builders we have named, 
the number of excellent artisans who turn out 
thorough work is legion, and includes such men as 
Joshua Brown, of Salem ; J. Keating, of Marble- 
head ; Van Deusen, of Williamsburg ; J. Clapham, 
of Roslyn, L. I., and Piepgrass, of Greenpoint. 

Among our most notable steam-yachts is the 
Corsair, owned by Mr. J. Pierrepont Morgan. She 
is of iron throughout, and was built on the Dela- 
ware in 1880 by Messrs. William Cramp & Son. 


STEAM - YACHTING IN AMERICA . 


ill 


She is one hundred and eighty-five feet long over 
all, one hundred and sixty-five feet on the water- 
line, twenty-nine feet eight inches extreme beam, 
with fourteen feet depth of hold and ten feet five 
inches draft, altogether of a very desirable size for a 
pleasure-boat. Her engines are compound, sur- 
face-condensing, with a low and high pressure 
cylinder. Her accommodations are sumptuous in 
appliances for comfort and in decoration, but offer 
nothing especially novel. It is an interesting cir- 
cumstance that Mr. Osgood’s iron steam-yacht 
Stranger is a twin to the Corsair. 

Another notable steam-yacht is the Yosemite y 
built in 1880 for Mr. William F. Belden, by Messrs. 
John Roach & Son, at Chester, Pa. She is one 
hundred and eighty-six feet over all, one hundred 
and seventy feet on the water-line and twenty-four 
feet beam ; she draws eleven feet eleven inches 
aft and has twelve feet depth of hold. She is built 
of iron and evidently constructed for outside work in 
long cruises. Her appearance is saucy, rakish, and 
severe, and suggests rather some fleet smuggler or 
slaver than a yacht intended for pleasure. She is 
propelled by twin screws and is schooner-rigged. 
Although not heavily sparred, the great rake of her 
masts, together with the long housing top masts, 
make her look excessively wicked. This effect 
is aided by the turtle-back, which extends the 
length of the vessel and at the bow tapers down to 
meet the stem, extending out to a point and giving 
the appearance of a long spike like that of the sword- 


1 1 2 5 TEA M- YA CHTING IN A MET I CA . 

fish. It must be admitted that the general effect 
of this turtle-back is not in the least beautiful, but 
it suggests ability to. endure weather and probably 
adds to her safety in a storm. But it narrows the 
promenade deck to a very contracted limit, while 
the slender iron balustrade and netting which pro- 
tect it scarcely seem in keeping with the sturdiness 
of the turtle-back. If the Yosemite were intended 
for some special service her plan might be exactly 
the thing, but for a pleasure yacht alone she seems 
to be too heavy, challenging attention rather than 
admiration. 

More agreeable to look at, and, perhaps, as good 
a sea-boat, is the Rhada, built in 1880 for Mr. 
Pierre Lorillard. She is of composite construc- 
tion, very fast and every way trim and handsome, 
except in her forward-deck saloon, which breaks 
the flow of lines and is so unnecessarily high as to 
ruin the general appearance of an otherwise very 
handsome boat. The tendency of Americans to 
crowd their decks with houses is excusable when it 
results from a question of dollars and cents, as in a 
freight or passenger vessel. But we cannot under- 
stand why, when a gentleman builds for pleasure a 
craft in which beauty of lines and decoration are 
especially considered, he should so often disfigure 
it with clumsy excrescences called cabins, so formed 
and placed as to ruin the general grace of outline. 
The Rhada was built at Newburg, by Messrs. Ward, 
Stanton & Co. As regards interior appointments, 
few of our yachts equal the Ibis , changed from a 


STEAM - YA CHTING IN AMERICA. 1 1 3 

schooner to a steam-yacht, and owned by Mr. Hig- 
ginson, of Boston. 

Mr. Samuel Pine, of Greenpoint, L. I., has 
built several very beautifully modeled steam- 
yachts, intended for light cruising on the lakes. 
The roughness of the seas on those waters, how- 
ever, when it does blow hard there, would make it 
undesirable for any craft with such a low freeboard 
and such flimsy upper works to get caught out in a 
northwest “sneezer.” But for ordinary weather 
these little steamers seems well adapted. As regards 
beauty of lines we have seen them surpassed by 
nothing afloat. From stem to stern not a break is 
to be discovered in the harmonious blending of 
curves. The entrance is fine, but most attention 
has been paid to the long, hollow run. Owing to 
the moderate draft, the propeller is depressed be- 
low the line of the keel, and, as in the Herreshoff 
boats, is protected by a skeg. The beautifully 
tapering bow is appropriately terminated by a sharp 
cut-water, ending in a beak-like point, answering 
in appearance to a bow-sprit. This is not an un- 
common form of bow in American steam-yachts. 
It was first employed in American ocean steamers 
when the bowsprit was abandoned. Eventually, 
the blunt stem came altogether into use in our 
steam marine, having been introduced by Commo- 
dore Vanderbilt in the famous steam-yacht North 
Star. The narrowness of the deck limits for prom- 
enading appears to be a defect in these otherwise 
perfect yachts, but it is quite too common in our 


1 14 STEAM- YACHTING IN AMERICA. 

steam-yachts to call for more than mere mention 
in this respect. They are furnished with Massey’s 
Patent Compound Engine, which, with its rapid 
high-pressure cylinder, long stroke, and double 
pistons, is one of the most desirable types of the 
compound engine. 

For interior decorations and comforts probably 
no steam-yacht ever built has merited more 
attention than the Namouna , completed in the 
spring of 1881, for Mr. James Gordon Bennett, 
by Messrs. Ward, Stanton & Co., of Newburg-on- 
the-Hudson. In the Namouna , Mr. Bennett has 
successfully endeavored to surpass the sumptuous- 
ness and convenience of every known yacht. The 
wonder is that with such a purpose in view so few 
mistakes occurred. The results proved equal to 
the intentions of the owner. 

The Namouna was designed by her builders 
and represents a modification of English and 
American models, which offers a very agree- 
able result. Her slightly hollow bow termin- 
ates in a long, graceful cutwater, supporting a 
gilded billet-head, and carved scroll-work, 
with a short bowsprit projecting beyond. It 
needed but an artistic figure-head of a fair femi- 
nine form instead of a billet head to complete the 
extreme beauty of this English-looking bow. It 
is a source of wonder to us that our wealthy yacht- 
owners, who are so ready to lavish expense, do not 
give more engagements to our sculptors by deco- 
rating the bows of their yachts with figure-heads. 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA, 115 

The tapering elliptical stern has a moderate over- 
hang. Here, again, we have a suggestion of 
English models. The keel is perfectly straight ; 
the midships section is long and full, giving more 
interior space, together with greater stability. The 
sides are straight or wall-sided, and the deck is 
protected by massive and lofty bulwarks of teak- 
wood. The latter feature gives a solidity to the 
appearance of the yacht appropriate to the sea- 
going work for which she is intended. The general 
effect when seen on the ways is one of remarkable 
symmetry and beauty of lines, aided by great 
strength of construction. It is only after repeated 
inspection that one realizes the real dimensions of 
one of the largest private yachts afloat. She 
is 226 feet 10 inches in length over all, and 
217 feet on the water-line. Her extreme beam 
is 26 feet 4 inches, her depth of hold 16 feet 
2 inches, and her draft 14 feet 3 inches aft, and n 
feet 6 inches forward. She is 845 tons, old meas- 
urement, but actually registers 616 tons, new meas- 
urement. 

She is rigged as a three-masted fore-and- 
aft schooner, carrying so-called lug sails. The 
looks of the vessel would have been decidedly 
more effective if the two after-sails had been pro- 
vided with booms. The masts are single sticks, 
beautifully tapered, well placed, and raking enough 
to add to the general harmony of lines ; but the 
spars and canvas are chiefly for looks or for steady- 
ing the vessel in a sea-way. For motive power she 


Il6 STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 

depends altogether on the powerful engines, which 
are of the vertical compound, surface-condensing, 
double-tandem order, with two cylinders, high- 
pressure, and 23 inches in diameter, and two low- 
pressure cylinders, 42 inches in diameter. Two 
cylindrical boilers of steel, 13 feet in diameter, 
feed the engines. The shaft is 11 inches in diam- 
eter and the propeller 1 1 feet 6 inches from arm to 
arm. She is calculated to average fourteen knots 
or seventeen miles an hour. Four compart- 
ments lend safety to the vessel, provided they 
are more carefully looked after than is com- 
mon in compartment ships. There is also a 
donkey boiler, capable of condensing five hundred 
gallons of fresh water daily. Engines are provided 
in addition for the steering apparatus, and for gen- 
erating power for the Edison electric lights, of 
which there are several hundred on board. There 
is also an engine for distributing fresh water to all 
the saloons and state rooms, to the galley, the quar- 
ters of the crew, and wherever else it is required. 
As regards every requisite mechanical apparatus, 
the Namouna combines the latest improvements, 
to a degree never surpassed on a sea-going vessel. 

The deck is flush fore-and-aft, and has a man-o’ 
war look with its beautiful teak wood bulwarks, its 
four Hotchkiss guns, its elaborately designed after- 
steering-wheel, and its bronze binnacle. All the 
deck houses are built in an unbroken line, and, al- 
though of iron, are lined with teak, which preserves 
the uniformity of effect. The teak imported for 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 117 

the vessel cost $8,000. They are filled with 
crackle glass, which allows the sunlight to sift 
below rather than to pierce with a garish glare. 
The arms of the seats are finished off with bronze 
dolphins. The deck-houses consist of an elegant 
smoking-room, a chart-room, the engine-rooms, 
and a sleeping cabin intended for the owner when 
he prefers to lodge on deck rather than below. 

But it is in the arrangements and decorations 
below that one finds the most remarkable features of 
this peerless floating palace. Naturally the ship is 
divided into four parts : the quarters of the crew, 
the engine-room, the ward-room of the officers, 
and the cabins for the owner and his friends, to 
which all the rest is subordinate and subservient. 
Here we find the order which has been observed 
from the first ship to the present day re- 
versed. The passenger cabin is forward in the 
bow, and the forecastle, or quarters of the crew, 
aft under the quarter-deck. This plan has already 
been tried in two or three English steam-yachts, 
and is obviously intended in order to escape the 
fumes and cinders and heat of the galley and 
machinery, as well as to gain a fresh current of air. 
It may be questioned whether these advantages 
are not too dearly purchased, since the fore part of 
the ship is most affected by the motion of a head- 
sea and by the sound and shock of the surges. 
The quarters of the crew are exceedingly neat and 
ample, and better provided with comforts than the 
cabins of many large sailing ships, and include a 


1 18 STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 

separate galley and laundry-room. The crew num- 
bers forty men all told. Next to the aftercastle, as 
it must in this case be called, is the officer’s ward- 
room, a commodious and attractive saloon, fitted 
up with maple and chestnut, and surrounded by 
staterooms. The galley for the main cabin is 
situated next to the engine-room, and divided from 
it by an iron bulkhead. It communicates with the 
pantry by a long, narrow passage along the side of 
the ship between two of the compartments. Every 
disagreeable odor is thus effectually kept at a dis- 
tance from the owner’s cabins. 

We now come to the cabins par excellence, which 
dre of great beauty and interest, and include a 
pantry, an armory, nine staterooms, a main saloon 
or dining-hall, and a ladies’ saloon, beside a num- 
ber of minor offices and an abundance of passage- 
ways. They are so arranged as to avoid, in a 
degree, the formality common in a ship’s cabins, 
and suggest apartments in a dwelling house. De- 
scending from the deck by a stairway of carved 
woods, resembling, in beauty and solidity, the stair- 
case of some ducal chateau, we reach an ample 
hall or vestibule serving also as an armory. On one 
side is the entrance to the butler’s pantry, and on 
other sides are sumptuous staterooms and a warlike 
case of burnished rifles and cutlasses. Stepping over 
the waxed and inlaid floor, we enter the grand saloon, 
an apartment twenty-four feet in length, extending 
entirely across from one side of the ship to the 
other, and sixteen feet in width — a room of spacious 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 119 

dimensions for a private yacht. The light is dis- 
tributed over the apartment from a large, dome- 
like sky-light of crackle glass. A curtain of Indian 
stuffs can be drawn across, and the light can be 
further tempered by a stained-glass slide. Light 
is also admitted by round port-holes. Exquisite 
hangings, in which the interwoven thistle is wrought 
in silk and gold, can be drawn across them and 
serve to dispel the idea that one is on ship-board. 
The thistle on these curtains constantly reappears 
in the decorations of the yacht, and is doubtless a 
reminiscence of the Scotch-Irish origin of her owner. 
Below the sky-light, over the massively elegant 
table of carved oak, hangs a very elaborate brass 
chandelier of Moorish design, diffusing a genial 
glow at night by means of tiny globes of electric 
lights pendent from the bands of metal filagree. 

All the wood-work in this saloon, including a pan- 
eled dado, are of English oak slightly stained so as 
to relieve it from the crude tint of newness. The 
sides of the room above the dado are of a delicate 
turquoise blue, in square panels, apparently of 
raised plaster, stamped with thistles of gold leaf. 
In reality this is done by a process comparatively 
new in this country, but suggested by an old Scotch 
style of decoration. The effect is reached by coat- 
ing a lining of leather with a paste-like pigment 
mixed with drying-oil and laid on so solidly that it 
could receive a rough raised surface. Its durability 
is remarkable, while the exceeding richness of the 
effect is exceptional. At either end of the saloon 


120 STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 

are sofas upholstered in figured-green plush. The 
iron deck-beams, reaching across the ceiling, are 
faced with oak, and the spaces between are painted 
with the most delicate designs of gold upon a sea- 
green ground ; this work was done altogether by 
hand, without the aid of the stencil, and is far more 
costly and artistic than one would imagine at a 
superficial glance. A superb oaken bookcase, next 
to the mantel, is a marvel of artistic taste and 
handiwork, and the same may be said of the side- 
board on the opposite side. The floor is inlaid 
with elegant designs in colored woods and is 
warmed in the center by a costly rug of Oriental 
pattern. 

Not only is every object thus far described 
exquisite in itself, but all are harmoniously com- 
bined to give an air of comfort as well as 
regal luxury, and all contribute in turn to aid 
the central and most remarkable piece of 
decoration in the saloon, the magnificent mantel 
piece and grate. The former reaches to the ceil- 
ing. It is supported on either hand by a dolphin 
superbly carved out of oak. Of the elaborate carv- 
ings of this mantel it would be difficult to give a 
clear description, in language. The grate is 
protected by a nickel-plated grating, to pre- 
vent the coals from falling out in rough 
weather, and is set in a recess covered with blue 
glazed tiles, relieved by larger glass panels of a 
pale-green hue, representing the sea with fish and 
shell-fish disporting therein. This part of the 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 


I 2 I 


decoration and the glass-work throughout the vessel 
were executed by the Louis C. Tiffany Glass Com- 
pany, but the general direction of the interior de- 
corations of the Naviouna was assigned to Messrs. 
McKim, Mead & White. The harmonious arrange- 
ments of colors in this saloon and the elaborateness 
of the carvings make it one of the most elegant 
cabins ever seen in a ship, at least since the time of 
Hiero and his famous yacht. 

From the main saloon we enter a winding aisle 
or passage upholstered with a lofty dado of olive 
green plush, and leading to the ladies’ saloon and 
staterooms and the stateroom of the owner. The 
latter is furnished entirely in cherry wood, except- 
ing a dado of pale maroon plush. It includes a 
bed-room and a bath-room, besides ample closets 
and wardrobes. The sides and floor of the bath- 
room are faced with tiles. The bath is in the floor, 
covered by a trap-door, a contrivance applied also 
to several other staterooms in this yacht and 
now not uncommon. The bed-room is lighted 
by a special sky-light, beneath which is a 
beautiful toilet-table, mirror and chest of drawers 
of carved cherry. Opposite to this is the 
bedstead, also of carved cherry, of a massive 
design, relieved by delicate carved work. The sofa 
is covered with olive-green plush — the prevailing 
tint in the upholstering of these cabins — and the 
panels of the doors are filled with mirrors of the 
costliest glass. The sides of this cabin, as of the 
ladies’ saloon and most of the staterooms, are cov- 


122 


STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA . 


ered with flowered chintz of an agreeable design. 
At a distance the effect is excellent, but seen near 
by it has a suggestion of cheapness entirely out of 
keeping with the surrounding decorations. 

The ladies’ saloon differs from the main saloon 
by being smaller as it is nearer the end of the ship. 
Instead of a side-board in this room we find a 
piano, expressly made for this position. A book- 
case presents a piece of light and elegant open-work 
carving resembling a Japanese cabinet. A dainty 
writing-desk is attached to it, almost too light for 
service, but very graceful in design. Of the other 
apartments each has features of its own, and all, 
whether for guests or attendants, are elegantly fur- 
nished. 

Such is the Namouna , so far as one is able to 
describe her in a*few brief pages — fairy-like in 
form, Oriental in the splendor of her decorations, 
and yet cozy and comfortable as an old English 
home in the plan of her appointments. Science, 
skill and money have been lavished upon her with- 
out stint. As a representative of what American 
craftsmen are capable of, she has never been sur- 
passed. The ship-builders and artists of Europe 
might inspect her ever so carefully and find little 
to condemn and much to praise ; possibly they 
might also see another indication of the growth of 
the arts in the western world. It is a long step 
from the Mayflower , in which the Pilgrims crossed 
in 1620, to the Namouna, and even they who depre- 
cate admiration of material success may gather 


S TEA M- YA CH TING IN A M ERICA . 123 

profit in the national progress suggested by a con- 
trast between these two ships, separated as they are 
by an interval of two hundred and sixty-six years. 

Since the foregoing pages on the American steam 
yacht were first published, the increase of this class 
of pleasure craft in our waters has been very 
marked. The famous Stiletto , designed and built 
by the Herreshoffs, has attained a phenomenal rate 
of speed, although but ninety-four feet over all in 
length. More recently they have added to their 
laurels by designing and constructing the No'w 
Then , the fastest steam yacht afloat. A number of 
sea-going steam yachts excelling the Namouna in 
size and rivaling the luxury of her cabins have 
also been built in our ship-yards, such as the 
Electra, belonging to Commodore Gerry, and the 
Atala?ita f belonging to Mr. Jay Gould, a screw 
schooner of two hundred and eighty-four tons, 
net, a magnificent and able vessel reflecting 
credit on her builders, Messrs. Cramp & Son. 
The latest and the largest of American sea- 
going steam yachts is the Alva } built for Mr. W. K. 
Vanderbilt by the Harlan & Hollingsworth Com- 
pany, although designed by an Englishman, Mr. 
St. Clair Byrne. She is a very handsome vessel of 
six hundred tons, barquentine rigged, and two hun- 
dred and eighty-five feet in length, equipped in the 
most elegant manner, and costing, it is said, nearly 
a million of dollars. As an example of our mechan- 
ical skill, the Alva is most creditable to our build- 


124 STEAM-YACHTING IN AMERICA. 

ers, but as a foreign model she can not be consid- 
ered wholly American. Numerous other steam 
yachts, constantly added to our yacht fleets, lend 
additional life to our ports in summer, and indicate 
the growth of the sentiment for out of door life. 
But we do not anticipate that they will materially 
disturb the interest in sail yachting ; for those who 
find pleasure in steam navigation are not of the 
class who would ever select a sail yacht except as 
a fashion ; they can not fairly claim to be consid- 
ered yachtsmen, their interest being confined to 
luxurious comfort in the presence of nature, rather 
than a demand in their dispositions for exertion 
and a display of skill combined with some hazard 
to give it zest. Spirits imbued with such natures 
will never tamely submit to be cooped up in the 
saloon of a steam yacht in preference to handling 
the main sheet or the wheel of a trim sloop in a 
stiff breeze, clawing up to windward against the 
green seas. 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 



THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 


[Copyright, 1886.] 

[As the original projector of the great bridge across the 
Atlantic, I have been requested by the secretary of one of our 
scientific associations to furnish a concise account of the incep- 
tion and completion of that enterprise for preservation among 
its records. Although the facts are widely known, yet so 
much that is false or exaggerated has been added to what is 
authentic, that I have decided, in compliance with the aforesaid 
request, to prepare a fresh and connected statement. I have 
avoided statistical tables. The details of construction and ex- 
penditure can be learned by application to the officers of the 
Transatlantic Railway, so far as it may be expedient to divulge 
them.] 

T HE time had come to act. I was convinced that 
whathad once apparently been a mere chimerical 
dream should now be transferred from the realm of 
fancy to that of fact. In every direction except 
one there seemed up to this time to be no limit to 
the inventive faculty of man or the possibilities of 
scientific achievement. In every direction the tire- 
less energy of the period had sought a vent, and 
with reasonable success in all but one. But this 
very uniformity of success made it the more trying 
for the restless spirits of the age to find themselves 
baffled in every attempt to reduce the time required 


128 the transatlantic railway. 


and the discomforts encountered in making the 
ocean passage from Europe to America. The most 
original, the most ingenious, nay, the most grotesque 
models for cleaving the waves, or for skimming 
over them, or for going under them, had been tried. 
Every possible means of locomotion had been 
tested ; but all finally failed in completely overcom- 
ing the resistance of the water, which of course in- 
creased in proportion to the power employed to over- 
come it. While some slight reduction was gained in 
the time, the limit of overcoming resistance was 
reached at last, and with it the ability to increase 
speed. It proved exactly as in the case of the fleet- 
ness of trotting horses. They were bred and trained 
to the point of making a mile in one minute and for- 
ty-one seconds and a third. But the limit was finally 
reached, or otherwise the day would not be distant 
when a horse might be bred and trained to trot a 
mile in no time. To this should be added the fact 
that every slight movement of speed implied vast 
increase in expense, which carried with it the corol- 
lary that the number of those who were able or 
willing to pay 50 or 100 percent, more for the pass- 
age across the Atlantic in order to save a few hours 
proved too insignificant to yield satisfactory divi- 
dends. 

Recourse was then had to the discovery of some 
means to cross the Atlantic in the air. One very 
able and adventurous spirit, John Airlie, a disciple 
and profound student of the theories and experi- 
ments of the eminent balloonist, Mr. E. C. Sted- 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 1 29 

man, actually succeeded in constructing an air ship 
that he propelled across one of our great lakes with 
considerable control over its movements. This 
event inspired the public with great confidence in 
his schemes, and he was able to form a joint stock 
company to establish a transatlantic line of air 
packets. Such was the general belief that this line 
was destined to transform all previously accepted 
modes of travel that there was a pressure to pur- 
chase tickets on the air-ship Stormking , which was 
to make the first trip to England. It was calcu- 
lated that her arrival would be cabled in two or at 
most three days. But she was never heard of again. 
Whether she is submerged in the dark oblivion of 
the stormy deep, or whether, snatched by an irre- 
sistible current of air beyond our atmosphere, the 
ill-fated Stormking drifts hopelessly in the chaos of 
limitless space, manned by a crew of skeletons, it is 
alike useless to surmise. But this mysterious catas- 
trophe dashed forever all hopes of reducing navi- 
gation in the air to a practical basis, and left the 
world precisely where it had been after the fact 
was demonstrated that no way had yet been devised 
for crossing from New York to Europe in less than 
five days. 

For years I had been haunted by the possibility 
of bridging the Atlantic. A friend to whom I once 
incautiously suggested it replied : “ It is a thing you 
should mention only to your nearest and dearest 
friend ! ” The look of scorn that accompanied 
the remark showed what I might expect from 


13 ° THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

many if I should seriously propose such a plan. 
And certainly the difficulties were qualified to daunt 
the boldest and the most sanguine. But yet the 
idea would not slumber. Without any conscious 
effort the plan took analytical shape in my mind, 
and gradually worked itself to the point where it 
dawned on me that the obstacles it presented were 
not insurmountable ; I saw that success was pos- 
sible, if based upon intelligence and allied with 
unflinching fortitude and perseverance. 

The two chief difficulties to overcome were the 
financial and the mechanical or scientific. The latter 
being demonstrated as feasible, the former would 
naturally become feasible likewise ; such is the law 
of scientific progress. But to demonstrate to capi- 
talists that a railway bridge or causeway across the 
Atlantic was possible was only part of the problem. 
The other and quite as important a question 
remained, which was to prove the safety of the plan 
as an investment to capitalists. Capital is selfish 
and so far human. It exists for itself alone ; where 
it gains nothing it neither gives nor risks. The 
point, then, was to prove the financial advantages 
that such a bridge would yield to the capitalists of 
the world. 

It was estimated that an undertaking of this 
nature would demand an expenditure of three 
thousand five hundred millions of dollars, implying 
dividends of one hundred and forty millions annu- 
ally, at an average rate of four per centum. This 
was a sum to take away any one’s breath, although 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 13 1 

but a fraction of what might be squandered in two 
or three years on a war disastrous to mankind, while 
this enterprise would be of a beneficent character. 
In presenting the subject to the public we there- 
fore fixed the capital estimated as necessary at 
sixteen hundred and fifty-three millions of dollars, 
such undervaluation being common when large 
claims are about to be made on the public purse. 
We were well aware that by using customary 
means the additional amounts required could be 
raised by degrees as the enterprise proceeded. 
This theory was, of course, based on the expecta- 
tion that the plan would be aided, in part at least, 
by the various powers interested in its success ; 
of the United States government I felt sure. The 
scheme promised to be so enormous in its expend- 
itures, as well as in its results, and to impart such 
a stimulus to labor, that no normally constituted 
Congress could allow it to drop ; and, once 
adopted there, successive appropriations or sub- 
sidies to complete the enterprise were simply mat- 
ters of time and the right use of those great 
means afforded projectors of great enterprises — 
lobbying and log rolling, aided by judicious dis- 
tributions of the stock in ways legitimized by 
accepted usage. When these means were exhausted 
there still remained the issue of mortgage bonds, 
a process that is practically without limit. I 
derived no little encouragement, also, from the 
facility with which the noted engineer and lobbyist 
De Lesseps had succeeded in raising vast sums 


132 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

to fling into that bottomless pit — the canal of 
Panama. 

It was of prime importance to stamp the Trans- 
atlantic Railway as an international undertaking, 
not only in order the more easily to secure the 
requisite funds, but also to insure the absolute 
neutrality of the bridge. No obstacle I had to 
overcome approached this in difficulty. It became 
necessary to call every diplomatic weapon and 
device into action. Never were the jealousies of 
nations more conspicuous, never did the federa- 
tion of the world, the magnificent dream of the 
brotherhood of man, appear to be further from 
realization. But the opposition at last yielded to 
unswerving hope and persistent effort, and a wider 
statesmanship finally prevailed over shortsighted 
views and a mistaken policy of selfishness. Per- 
haps, after all, it was interested purpose that suc- 
ceeded in the end in turning the balance, for the 
highest disinterestedness is also the most pro- 
found selfishness ; to seek the good of others is 
also eventually to insure our own good ; “ Cast 
thy bread on the waters ” is a maxim based on 
self-aggrandizement. This may have been, there- 
fore, one of the reasons that induced governments 
and capitalists to waive their hates and prejudices 
and cast their money on the stormy waters of the 
Atlantic. 

The co-operation of the nations was obtained by 
each giving guarantees for the interest upon an 
amount of stock proportioned to the actual inter- 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 133 


est of each in such a scheme, until the line proved 
to be self-sustaining. These interests were propor- 
tioned not only according to the capital the sub- 
jects of each government already had involved in 
commerce and ships, but also according to the 
indirect advantages it derived from intercourse 
between the continents. Naturally this was a ques- 
tion of excessive difficulty, which could only be 
arranged by a court of arbitration composed of 
men of the highest qualifications. A point of the 
first importance was to agree on the purchase of 1 
every transatlantic line*of steamships by the repre- 
sentative governments, which guaranteed to the 
owners a low but permanent interest on their capi- 
tal. This step was accompanied by a collective 
edict forbidding the employment of steamships in 
the north Atlantic trade for a period of ten years 
immediately succeeding the opening of the great 
bridge to commerce and travel. During such an 
interval it was reasoned that the enterprise ought 
to be able to demonstrate its right to be. 

This was the turning point in the inauguration of 
this enterprise. I felt that there was no longer any 
reasonable doubt of ultimate success after terms 
had been arranged with the proprietors of trans- 
atlantic steamship lines. It should be stated here, 
however, that while affording us these guarantees 
and aids to success, the governments established, 
per contra , certain wholesome restrictions in regard 
to fares and freights and the watering of the stock 
which were intended to prevent the existence of a 


134 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

huge, irresponsible monopoly that would in the end 
defeat the very objects for which the bridge was 
constructed. 

The eastern terminus of the bridge was fortu- 
nately not a matter requiring much discussion. 
The natural conditions at once suggested a point 
on the south-western coast of Ireland. This was 
felt by many to give England undue advantages, 
especially if, in case of war with continental powers 
or the United States, she should choose to bar pas- 
sage across her territory to neutrals or aliens. But 
this dilemma was avoided,* not only by a solemn 
compact by which that power bound herself not to 
throw hindrances in the way of passage for all 
intending simply to cross Great Britain on a con- 
tinuous journey without stopping ; but England 
also agreed to grant permission for excavating the 
tunnel under the English Channel to a mixed com 
pany, and also at her own expense to carry a marine 
railway, like the one on the Atlantic, across St. 
George’s Channel from Holyhead to Dublin. It 
was also the general opinion that the fact of the 
eastern terminus of the transatlantic bridge being 
in Ireland was a compensating advantage to the 
continental powers. Ireland has never been sus- 
pected of being favorably inclined toward England, 
and in the event of that government showing bad 
faith in the conduct of this enterprise, the Irish 
could be invariably counted on to co-operate in 
bringing her to terms. 

All the preliminaries having been finally disposed 


THE TkANSA TLA N TIC RAIL WA Y. 135 

of to a degree satisfactory beyond my utmost ex- 
pectations, and, the first installments of capital hav- 
ing been subscribed, the next stage in the enter- 
prise was that of construction. The president of 
the road, who conducted the financial department, 
was Victor Centimillion, Esq., whose French, 
English and Dutch extraction gave him audacity, 
confidence and pertinacity. The management of 
the works was naturally intrusted to my charge. 
The chief superintendent under me was Mr. Pros- 
per Adamson, whose reputation both as a civil 
engineer and a commander of men was already 
widely established. The result has more than justi- 
fied the confidence placed in his fitness for this very 
responsible position. My chief secretary was a 
young man of moderate experience but great ambi- 
tion, and an ability that showed unusual promise of 
development during the preliminary negotiations. 
His name was Alfred Lawrence. I mention the 
name of these gentlemen as it gives me an oppor- 
tunity to record how much the success - of the 
Transatlantic Railway is owing to their sagacity 
and skill. In the selection of workmen there were 
certain absolute rules laid down to which every 
man was obliged to subscribe on entering this ser- 
vice. Men were selected for their fitness alone, 
without regard to race or labor organizations ; 
they were paid according to the quality of the work 
and the risk involved ; merit was to be recognized, 
and in all cases of dispute the maxim was arbitra- 
tion, but not dictation. He who, being once 


136 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

engaged, undertook to act at variance with these 
rules was discharged on the spot and never 
re-engaged. It is almost needless to say that 
never did labor and capital work together more 
harmoniously than on the Transatlantic Rail- 
way. 

The preparation of the various parts to be used 
in the construction of the bridge was awarded to 
contractors, and as far as possible to those who 
already had a plant. But in order to reduce the 
time, labor and expense of placing the pontoons in 
position, the contracts for constructing them were 
equally divided between the builders of Europe and 
America. The immense natural resources of New- 
foundland, a little known and greatly neglected 
island, now found their opportunity for develop- 
ment. Perceiving, after several visits thither, the 
immense possibilities for capital invested in New- 
foundland, I had already formed a company to 
purchase large tracts of the mineral portions of 
that island before I had announced my intention 
to undertake the transatlantic bridge. The affair 
was managed so cautiously that we were able to 
purchase at moderate rates. Still further to lull 
suspicion, we allowed the investment to lie idle for 
a time, well aware that it would be worth more 
before it would be worth less. The advantages of 
this arrangement now became apparent, for this 
very company of capitalists formed the nucleus of 
the new transatlantic company, and the vast lum- 
ber and mineral resources of Newfoundland con- 


THE TRA NSA TLA NTIC RAIL WAY. 137 

tributed not a little to the success of our colossal 
enterprise. 

The railway was, of course, to be laid on a bridge 
composed of a line of floats or pontoons, but the 
problems to be solved presented serious difficulties. 
The chief were security and solidity — security from 
accident, and solidity that would permit the trains 
to pass without jar or oscillation. The latter point 
was necessarily oi the utmost importance, for with- 
out assurance on this score the road would be use- 
less. But if we could be successful in overcoming 
oscillation, that did not necessarily imply safety. 
The two problems were therefore distinct, and this 
fact added enormously to the cost and the difficulty 
of the undertaking. The waves of the North At- 
lantic sometimes present a depth of forty feet, and 
more rarely of forty-five feet, from crest to hollow; 
thirty feet is not uncommon, while twenty feet may 
be considered the ordinary height in a gale. These 
huge billows often come a distance upwards of 1,000 
miles, moving forward with prodigious violence. 
Even in calm weather there is always a languid swell 
that renders the stability of any object on its surface 
apparently impossible, and yet at the very outset 
this was one of the obstacles which required to be 
definitely overcome, or further efforts to initiate 
this enterprise would be futile. 

Experiment and experience came to the aid of 
our calculations. It was found that stability could 
be reached only in one way, costly, it is true ; but 
it was worth the cost. In the present case the 


138 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 


courage required to meet the emergency was moral, 
that is to dare to venture on the vast outlay the 
plan demanded, for the mechanical difficulties were 
such as could be overcome with comparative ease 
once the requisite funds were provided. The 
dimensions of the pontoons were not an unim- 
portant consideration, and were therefore fixed by 
careful calculation. The pontoons were of uniform 
size ; each was 800 feet long and 172 feet wide (a 
width essential to stability and buoyancy), and 
ovate at the ends instead of square. The latter 
feature was intended to meet the direction of the 
Atlantic waves, as the winds of the North Atlantic 
in this latitude rarely blow precisely from any one 
of the cardinal points, but generally incline between 
them, being, for example, south-west or north-west 
rather than due west. Pontoons of such form, 
placed west and by south parallel with the course 
of the railway, would therefore offer less resistance 
to the sea than if square. The sides were slightly 
convex, as being stronger and offering less resist- 
ance to the waves ; the bottom or floor of the pon- 
toons was nearly flat, and they were allowed a free 
board of forty-five feet ; that is, the top was forty- 
five feet above the water when they were ballasted 
and anchored, and including the average weight of 
rails, trains and cables. 

The size and form of these pontoons has been 
proved by experience to be as nearly perfect as pos- 
sible to meet the required purposes, aided as they 
were by still further precautions to be described in 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 139 

the sequel. It should be added that in order to 
assist the escape of the waves and decrease the 
resistance, the floor of the pontoons was arched, or 
concave, in three places, which made it resemble 
the piers of a bridge rather than the bottom of a 
ship. The inner skin, or floor, attached to a keel- 
son resting on the top of these convexities was, 
however, straight, an essential point in giving 
strength to the entire fabric. The pontoons were 
constructed of the best iron, with a double skin, as 
suggested above, or one hull within another ; the 
hollow space between the two hulls was five feet 
wide, subdivided into air-tight cells. The inner 
hull was also divided into four compartments, so 
constructed as to be of actual service in case of 
need rather than as perfunctory devices for adver- 
tising the strength of the road, and in reality vic- 
timizing an unsuspecting public. 

The pontoons were placed 200 feet apart ; they 
were connected by six massive chain cables. But 
in addition to this there was an immense continu- 
ous cable of wire in sections a mile long, attached 
to the top and to the bottom of the pontoons on 
each side, thus giving a continuity of strength. 
While the great bulk and united strength of the 
different parts largely contributed to stability, it 
was still insufficient alone for a work demanding a 
perfect equilibrium. This result was obtained by 
anchoring each pontoon. But as this process was 
clearly of excessive difficulty if not impossible at 
such depths by ordinary methods, the following 


140 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

plan was devised which has now successfully stood 
the test of years. A chain cable composed of links 
fifteen inches in diameter was dropped to the bottom 
of the ocean at a distance of one mile from the 
parallel line of the pontoons. It was laid in sec- 
tions for greater convenience in handling, the sec- 
tions being shackled together as fast as they were 
dropped. At numerous equidistant points hooks 
or grapnels were attached to it, which would serve 
to anchor the cable itself to the rocks and sand, 
although its weight alone would have been almost 
sufficient. At intervals of ioo feet were attached 
smaller cables, whose loose upper end was kept 
afloat by large buoys. When the pontoons reached 
their stations, the buoys nearest them were brought 
alongside, and the pontoon was anchored by these 
smaller cables to the immense cable at the bottom 
of the sea. Each side of a pontoon was thus held 
in place by eight cables. The great weight of the 
large cables, held as they were, too, by the grap- 
nels, while the strain was reduced by the weight of 
the long scope of the smaller cables, led me to cal- 
culate that they would be sufficient, in combination 
with the surface cables and the great bulk of the 
main structure, to distribute the strain equally to 
every part, and thus produce stability. And so it 
has proved. 

But there were other elements of power which 
tended still further to reduce the strain and increase 
the volume of strength. It was originally intended 
to construct only one line of pontoons with four lines 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 141 

of rails. But further consideration led to the con- 
clusion that if the road should prove a success the 
travel and traffic would be such as soon to demand 
increased facilities ; another line would therefore 
become essential. To construct a double line at 
first would very largely increase the estimates, but 
on the other hand the additional stability and secu- 
rity of a double line and the decreased danger of 
the interruption of travel through possible acci- 
dents, would tend to give far greater value to the 
stock. It was therefore decided to lay another 
line of pontoons parallel with the first, separated 
from it by a space of sixty-five feet. The two 
lines, while separate, were also united by a light 
trestle work of iron moving on swivels at the points 
of contact, in order at once to relieve and resist the 
impact of the sea. 

It is obvious that a double line of pontoons like 
this, representing a combined width of four 
hundred and seventy-four feet, with a free 
board of forty-five feet above the sea, and with 
wide intervals of space admitting the passage 
of the waves, must present great powers of 
resistance to the impinging rush and beat of the 
storms, and exhibit scarcely a perceptible motion. 
It is well known by this time how successful our 
calculations have proved. But still further to neu- 
tralize the. action of the sea and reduce the oscilla- 
tion of the bridge to a minimum, a floating cable 
was fixed at a distance of 130 yards from each side 
of the bridge. This cable or boom was sustained 


* 4 2 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

at the surface by large can buoys, constructed with 
great strength and placed at intervals of thirty-five 
yards. This cable was prevented from sagging to 
leeward by being anchored to the cables already 
dropped to the bottom, which were amply strong 
and heavy for this double work ; the floating cable 
was in turn prevented from moving away from the 
bridge by hawsers attached to the pontoons. To 
this floating cable was attached a net or apron 
maintained in a perpendicular position by lead 
weights. While not altogether breaking the force 
of the sea, it tended greatly to weaken its onset. 
What was most to be dreaded was the breaking of 
the surges ; a mere swell, however high, is of com- 
paratively little consequence. It has long been 
demonstrated that a little oil distributed over the 
surface of the angriest sea would greatly diminish 
its power. The writer was one of the first to bring 
this fact to the attention of the public in a little 
work entitled “ The Multitudinous Sea.” In 
accordance with this fact every buoy attached to 
the floating cable was provided with a supply of 
oil in a canvas bag near the top which was replen- 
ished from time to time. Whenever the waves 
washed over the bag they carried away a certain 
amount of the oil which, spreading with inconceiv- 
able rapidity, produced a glossy film that broke the 
force of the sea before it reached the pontoons. 
Thus the bridge never received the full power of 
even the heaviest storms. 

The laying of the road bed was a problem requir- 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY . 143 

in g the nicest calculations. The question was to 
combine firmness with flexibility, strength with 
elasticity. With either of these elements lacking 
all our labor would have been in vain. The meth- 
ods adopted to reach the end in view may be briefly 
described as follows : 

The pontoons were 800 feet in length and 200 
feet apart endwise. There were four sets of rails 
on each line, two for passengers and two for 
freight. Besides these there was a narrow line on 
each with switches for the accommodation of the 
hand cars of the line workmen. Each pontoon 
supported three trestle frames, on which the rails 
were laid. Each of these divisions of trestle was 
pivoted in the center upon a ball and socket joint 
attached to a massive bed of steel in the bottom of 
the pontoon. These trestle frames were carefully 
balanced, and were joined with elastic buffers to 
the opposite ends of the adjoining frames, but the 
ball and socket arrangement and the buffers were 
intended to maintain the railway always on a level 
whatever be the oscillations of the pontoons, which 
in any event could be only very slight. The two 
end sections of the trestle work extended 100 feet 
beyond the pontoon and over the water until met 
by the corresponding trestle of the opposite pon- 
toon. Thus it will be seen that the railway of one 
pontoon extended 1,000 feet, and that a trifle under 
six pontoons were required for an English mile. 
This vast system of trestle work added another 
great element of. strength and stability to this stu- 


144 THE transatlantic railway. 

pendous causeway, both because of its weight and 
by the weight of the union of parts in a continuous 
whole. I should have previously stated that the 
pontoons were also rendered more firm by water 
ballast, which, with the weight of the trestle and 
rails, immersed them about twenty-seven feet. It 
is well known that a heavily laden ship rises and 
falls less in a sea than one that is, as they say, 
“ flying light.” 

Such was the complex system devised for trav- 
ersing the Atlantic. But this description only 
covers part of the numerous details essential to 
bring it to a successful issue. At the risk of taxing 
the reader’s patience, I must give an account of 
operations scarcely less important to the working of 
the bridge. It was clearly impossible both for 
safety and convenience that such a distance should 
be traversed without intermediate stations. It was, 
therefore, decided to begin by the construction of 
nine stations ; others could be added afterward as 
required, if warranted by favorable pecuniary 
returns. 

These stations were built like immense rafts, 
being in point of fact floating islands main- 
tained in position by anchorage, and aided in 
stability by their vast bulk. The means selected 
for holding the stations in place has thus far proved 
all that could be desired. Old hulks of iron steam- 
ers no longer in service, and of large tonnage, were 
filled with cement until they reached the extreme 
limit of flotation. Cement is superior to stone as 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 145 

forming a solid mass that would retain its shape 
even if the inclosing iron hull should fall apart, and 
it would also harden by contact with the water. 
Fifty of these hulks were towed to each point 
where it was proposed to construct a station. 
Around each three great chain cables were firmly 
attached ; the other end of the cables was retained 
at the surface while the hulk was flooded and sunk 
to the bottom of the sea, where it represented a 
rock containing from 1,000 to 1,300 cubic yards of 
concrete solid as rock. The dead weight of the 
concrete was such that it would have been impossi- 
ble to place a larger amount in the hulks without 
their sinking before they could reach the intended 
point. 

The platform of the station was constructed of a 
nucleus represented by a hexagonal pontoon 200 
feet in diameter. Besides being anchored to the 
fleet of sunken hulks, it was steadied by being 
attached to the submarine cables which at these 
points were doubled for several miles. Around this 
central pontoon was collected a number of quad- 
rangular pontoons, slightly longer than the sides of 
the central one. They were ranged in several 
exterior lines around it, and so fixed and protected 
by massive fenders that their sides never could 
touch and grind together, thus avoiding the risk of 
serious damage. These pontoons were steadied by 
water ballast and kept in place by being attached 
to the cables fixed to the rocks of concrete. Over 
all was a firm platform uniting the entire group of 


14 6 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

pontoons in one solid, circular fabric, nearly 400 
yards in diameter and forty-five feet above the sea. 
The platform, however, was several feet higher, 
being plumb with the railway. The very size and 
solidity of this compact mass gave it a power to 
resist the onset of the highest surges, even without 
the aid of the anchoring cables. When walking 
over it one could hardly detect the slightest tremor 
even in the heaviest gales. We did not deem it 
prudent, notwithstanding, to dispense with the use 
of oil in severe weather. 

Each of these stations was provided with a draw 
in the bridge in order to afford passage to vessels 
bound north or south, although this was not of fre- 
quent occurrence. While the lights on the bridge 
indicated its position for some distance at night, 
yet it was deemed necessary also to fix a calcium 
light of great, power on the top of an open iron 
tower erected in the centre of each station, and visi- 
ble fifteen miles. The stations could prove harbors 
of refuge to sailing ships moored under their lee in 
stormy weather. 

A hotel was also attached to each of these rail- 
way stations of graceful design and offering 
every comfort and attraction to those who desired 
to break the journey. It was forbidden to erect 
any structure on these floating islets over one 
story in height, but this rather added to the charm 
of these unique resorts, which were leased to differ- 
ent parties in order by competition to maintain the 
high quality of merit intended for them. Each 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 147 

hotel was surrounded by cool verandas and deco- 
rated with gay banners. In front of each was a 
small garden, whose well-ordered parterres were 
superb with their harmonious arrangement of 
flowers. In winter a roof of glass was raised over 
these miniature botanical paradises. The menu was 
daily provided with the choicest fruits and meats of 
Paris, London and New York ; the fish were caught 
from the bridge itself, and, it is needless to say, 
were always fresh. At his breakfast every morn- 
ing the guest not only received the papers of both 
continents, but also found by his plate a daily bul- 
letin containing the latest telegraphic news and 
arrivals, printed on the island. At evening a band 
discoursed music over the lone sea waves and 
the fair ones who by moonlight strolled over 
that mystic islet and watched the luminous 
trains shoot across the dark sea might at times 
almost fancy that they were mermaids of the 
deep. 

I speak of all this as if it were in the past tense, 
because it is several years since I have seen the 
Transatlantic Railway, having for health and repose 
removed to Madeira, and my mind dwells on it as 
when it was being built in the days when to super- 
intend its construction demanded all my energies 
and enthusiasm. But I ought really to speak of 
this enterprise in the present tense, for not only do 
these island stations which I have described still 
exist, but they have become so popular that they 
have been greatly enlarged, as I am told, and num- 


148 THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 

erous visitors flit from one to the other during the 
genial months of summer. 

One great advantage enjoyed by this railway was 
the absence of dust and cinders. Of the former of 
course there was none. The atmosphere, as the 
train flew over the blue sea, was always crisp and 
pure, while of cinders there could be none, nor 
mephitic smoke, because the motive power 
employed was electricity. It was partly as a result 
of the urgent requirements of the Transatlantic 
Railway that electricity as a motor was brought to 
perfection. The engines thus propelled were nat- 
urally lighter than locomotives using coal, and the 
need of tenders was obviated. Thus there was also 
no occasion for the transportation or storage of 
coal. It is evident that herein existed a vast econ- 
omy in the space and energy required, as well as in 
the number of employes. 

At night the bridge was illuminated its entire 
length by electric lights fixed sufficiently near to 
cast a glow over the railway from continent to 
continent. On the interruption of the light at any 
spot trains were brought without delay to a full 
stop, in order to ascertain the cause and prevent 
a possible accident. A perfect system of signals 
was devised, and each station was connected by a 
submarine electric cable with every other station, 
as well as with the main land, being thus inde- 
pendent of any breaks that might occur in the 
bridge itself. Fleet and powerful despatch boats 
were kept at every station, ready at a moment’s 


THE TRANSATLANTIC RAILWAY. 149 

warning to carry assistance wherever a break might 
occur. Thus an enterprise that seemed hazardous 
to the last degree was made uncommonly secure 
through the use of extraordinary precautions and 
the employment of sleepless vigilance. 

But one danger there was from the outset, which 
was not only a standing menace to the existence of the 
Transatlantic Railway, but actually threatened even 
its inception. To be sure it was only during three 
or four months of the year that peril was to be seri- 
ously apprehended from this source, but these were 
the very months when the demands on the railway 
would be the most severe, and when a serious accident 
might prove fatal to a continuance of travel on the 
railway. I refer to the ice which in the spring and 
early summer comes down from the north in silent, 
spectral fleets. It was not only useless, it was mad- 
ness, to undertake the construction of the Transat- 
latic Railway until a sure means had been found to 
overcome this tremendous obstacle to success. 
Long and seriously did I reflect and experiment on 
this appalling problem. The task was one of un- 
speakable difficulty. It occurred to me that dyna- 
mite would prove an effectual ally if aided by the 
efficient torpedo boats of which so many varieties 
have been invented. By repeated experiments we 
ascertained that, given sufficient dynamite, the 
largest icebergs could be exploded over and over 
again until shattered to harmless fragments. But 
the most difficult question was to find them when 
the fog prevailed ; occasions would occur when no 


1 50 THE TRANS A TLANTIC RAIL WA Y. 

vigilance or precaution would avail to discover 
them in time. One iceberg gliding majestically 
through the bridge and rending it asunder as if it 
were made of straw would have produced a tumble 
in the stock of the Transatlantic Railway that all 
the bulls of Wall street and the bourse could never 
overcome. The expense of fighting icebergs was 
also found to be entirely beyond the utmost limits 
of our financial resources, even if such means had 
been sufficient to solve the problem. 

It was therefore deemed expedient to deflect the 
line of the bridge in a more southerly direction 
than first proposed, causing it to strike the Gulf 
Stream just below the point where the ice is dissi- 
pated by contact with the warm current from the 
Gulf of Mexico, and thence continue it to Boston Bay. 
This change added greatly to the first estimates. 
But, on the other hand, the cost of this addition to 
the line was far less than the prodigious expense of 
constructing and maintaining a vast fleet of tor- 
pedo boats, which would still have been only an 
incomplete protection against a peril that sooner or 
later might have involved enormous destruction of 
life and property. It must also be taken into the 
calculation that we were able by following the new 
course to avoid laying a railway across the wastes 
of Newfoundland or bridging the swift current of 
the St. Lawrence in the wide strait between Cape 
North and Cape Ray, a work that would otherwise 
have been essential for a continued railway passage. 
The completion of this great enterprise finally dem- 


THE TRANSA TLANTIC RAIL IV A Y. 1 5 1 

onstrated what I had been fully convinced to be 
the fact from the outset, namely, that it was entirely 
feasible, the greatest difficulties to overcome being 
moral and financial. 

The financial obstacles were, indeed, beyond des- 
cription, and more than once after the bridge was 
actually commenced did it seem as if it must be 
definitely abandoned, so great was the difficulty of 
infusing confidence in the minds of the money 
kings. It is a long and tedious task to repeat the 
details of the process by which many hundreds of 
millions of additional capital for the completion of 
the railway were obtained by subscription or floated 
on the market in bonds. When I look back to 
that crisis and recall the effort expended, the 
devices employed, to accomplish our end, I am 
astounded at the courage displayed and the suc- 
cess achieved. I am not mistaken in assuming 
that such a tax on human energy has never been 
surpassed. 

It is now twelve years since the great Trans- 
atlantic Railway was thrown open to the public. 
To say that the road has grown in popularity every 
year is a mild statement. The travel between the 
two continents is already nearly two hundred times 
greater than in the old steamship times. A traveler 
may go from the Pacific to the Caspian without 
changing cars : while the freight traffic has reached 
such a volume that I understand it is now proposed 
to lay another line of pontoons for the further 
accommodation of the increasing demands of trade. 


1 5 2 THE TEA NSA TLA N TIC RA IL W. A Y. 

The time is not distant when similar marine rail- 
ways will be constructed elsewhere, adding to the 
prosperity and the happiness of mankind. 

The chief end of the human race appears to be 
at present to reduce the size of our little planet. 
Not being able by actual compression to diminish 
its dimensions, scientists and inventors practically 
produce a similar result by increasing the means 
by which space can be more rapidly traversed. If 
it took the first savage ten years to make the cir- 
cuit of the globe, then to him in that remote period 
the world was really seventy times larger than it is 
to the man of our time, who can start from New 
York via the Transatlantic Railway and return to 
it via San Francisco in fifty-five days. In propor- 
tion, again, as the world grows smaller man grows 
larger by comparison with the diminishing planet on 
which he treads, and hence he who aids to produce 
this result assists the expanding race to enter with 
more ease upon the contemplation of spaces far 
more vast in another existence. This is the way it 
appears to me, but perhaps the time is not yet ripe 
for a general and cordial acceptance of these con- 
clusions, which I simply record in this place, satis- 
fied that they will bear the test of time. In this 
apparently frantic pursuit after speed there is no 
longer any doubt that the race of Adam is follow- 
ing a great, immutable, and universal law. The 
annihilation of space tends to minimize the import- 
ance of the material and physical, and indicates 
that the soul is the type of the universe, having no 
prescribed limits for its scope and habitation. 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 











WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 


I T was a fine night. The Southern Cross and the 
Magellan clouds gleamed in the serene heavens. 
A clipper ship was running down the trade wind. 
Every thing was set alow and aloft, and the noble 
craft was reeling off fourteen knots, with a broad 
band of phosphorescent foam rushing along on 
each side, and uniting at the stern in a magnificent 
wake resplendent with green and crimson sparks. 
One felt exhilarated as if by an elixir, as he paced 
the deck and watched the vast sails bellying to the 
breeze, and the joyous movement of the great ves- 
sel bounding toward home. Captain Foster was 
taking a final smoke before turning in at eight bells. 
He was in a cheerful mood, and every now and 
then spoke exultingly of the qualities of his ship. 

“Where was she built, Captain Foster?" I 
inquired. 

“ She was built, sir, at Newburyport. I love this 
ship as if she were my own child. If I hadn’t mar- 
ried my wife I shouldn’t have had this ship, sir," he 
replied. 

“ How did that happen ? I infer there was some- 
thing unusual about it," said I. 


I5 6 WIIAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 

“ Yes, there was something curious about it all. 
When I went to school Amy Fernald went there 
too, and I took a great fancy to her. She was six- 
teen and I was seventeen. But she was rich ; her 
father owned ships and traded with the East Indies. 
But my folks were poor, and my father sailed in the 
ships that Amy’s father owned. After awhile her 
people began to hear that I was sweet on their child, 
and they told her she must take no further notice of 
me. To make the matter surer, they sent Amy 
away to a boarding-school, and then I could see 
nothing of her. 

“ This maddened me and made me ready to listen 
to my father, who said it was time I should be earn- 
ing a living, instead of wasting any more time at 
books and fooling with the girls. He wanted me 
to go into a store ; ‘ one sailor’s enough in a fam- 
ily,’ said he. But I had a hankering for the sea, 
and thought, too, that it was better for me to get 
away from the place, if I couldn’t see Amy Fer- 
nald. 

“ I ran away to Boston and shipped for Batavia. 
We were gone fifteen months, and when I got home 
I was in good training, for there wasn’t any thing 
bad about me. After the first few weeks I got so 
that I could furl a top-gallant-sail or pass the 
weather earring with any of them. I said to myself, 
too, that if I applied myself I could get a ship of 
my own some day, and if I weren't good enough 
for Amy as I was, I’d be up to her when I walked 
my own quarter-deck. 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 157 

“ When I got home I was twenty-one. I found 
Amy was there too. I hadn’t seen her for more’n 
two years. I met her in the street ; she was dressed 
up handsome as a picture, but I had on the clothes 
I wore at sea. But it didn’t seem to make any dif- 
ference to her. She stopped and spoke to me and 
asked so many questions about me, where I’d been, 
and what I was going to do, and smiled so pleas- 
antly, my heart jumped from the keel right up 
to the main-truck, just as lively as a flag h’isted on 
a sunny day and waving in a fair breeze. 

“ After she left me I thought it all over, and I 
guessed that the least I could make out of her was 
that she liked me pretty well. At first this made 
me jolly as a cricket ; but afterward I felt greatly 
depressed, for even if she loved me, how was I, a 
poor sailor, a-going to get her ; and even if I did, 
how should I support her in a decent way ? 

“ ‘ Anyhow,’ said I to myself, ‘ the only way is 
for me to get another berth. It’s the only chance for 
me.’ While I was ashore, therefore, I studied navi- 
gation with my uncle, who’d been mate of a ship, 
and then I looked around, and being lively and giv- 
ing my whole attention to my work, in a year I got 
a place as second mate. 

“ All this time I was just thinking of Amy 
Fernald day and night. I’d made up my mind that 
she should be my wife, and I was pretty determined 
in those days. But when I came home again as 
second mate, and with three hundred dollars salted 
down, the first thing I heard was that a chap named 


158 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC . 

Dyce — Algernon Dyce, or some such big-sounding 
name, was making love to her. He had lots of 
money, came from an old family in Boston, they 
said, and her folks were tickled to death about him, 
and wanted her to marry him right out-of-hand, as 
you might say. 

“ * If Amy loves him,’ thought I to myself, ‘ I won’t 
bother any more with such a fickle-mind creature. 
But if so be she doesn’t care for him, then let him 
lookout whenever he comes foul of my hawser. 
For she’s my girl, and I won’t stand any meddling 
from nobody, I don’t care who he is. Dyce be 
hanged ! he’ll feel sick when he sees me, that's all.’ 

“ This was not just the proper sort of thinking, 
for he had as much right as I to love a pretty 
girl, at least if he didn’t know how I felt about her. 
Well, Mr. Fernald at this time had a large ship 
launched. He called her the Hyperion. They were 
going to take her around to New York to load for 
Bombay. It was fine summer weather, on the edge 
of September, and although the line gale comes on 
about that time, they calculated to get the clipper 
around to her berth in New York before that. She 
was the finest ship he had built, and he was so 
proud of her, he invited a lot of friends to take a 
pleasure v’y’ge to New York. ’Twouldn’t take 
more’n two or three days ; with a northerly 
breeze the ship could make the run in thirty-six 
hours from dock to dock. The top-sails were 
sheeted home and the anchor was a-trip. I was 
standing on the wharf looking at the ship and feel- 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 159 

ing like the devil, for I’d just seen Amy and Mr. 
Dyce go on board with the rest of the party, and 
there I was left out in the cold. People make love 
quickly at sea, and my heart misgave me, that it 
was all up with my chase for Miss Fernald. 

“ I was turning away to go home, when I saw a 
boat put off from the ship with the captain in the 
stern-sheets ; when they got to the wharf, I saw 
them landing a sick man. Then Captain Cooper 
came toward me. When he got within hail he 
said : i Mr. Foster, my mate’s taken sick ; he’s got a 
fit, and I want a man right away to take his place. 
Do you want to go with us to New York ? If we 
get along well, I’ll give you the first chance for the 
round v’y’ge to Bombay ! ’ ” 

“ ‘ I’m with you, Captain Cooper,’ said I.” 

“Jump right aboard, then; never mind your 
chest ; I’ll lend you a pea-jacket, and you can send 
for your things from New York. We’ve got to get 
away while the tide serves.” 

“ In five minutes I was on the forecastle of the 
Hyperion ordering the hands heaving at the wind- 
lass, and Amy was on the quarter-deck watching 
me. The longer I live the more I see that life is 
made up of just such unlooked-for surprises and 
turns of fortune. 

“We hadn’t more’n got outside of the bar, head- 
ing for Cape Ann with a fresh breeze, than I saw 
the ship was mighty tender. She was in ballast, 
but they hadn’t stowed enough below and she was 
heavily sparred and crank. ’ Twasn’t long afore 


160 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 


we had to hand the royals, and I saw we were in 
for more’n two days’ run, unless the wind favored 
us, for we couldn’t carry on if it came on to blow, 
nor make much beating to windward flying light 
under short sail. 

“ This was just what I wanted. The longer we 
were out, the better my chances to cut out that 
Boston chap, you see? Just as soon as we got 
where we could feel the swell a-heavin’ up, I was 
sure of him, for he began to look white about the 
gills, and didn’t laugh quite so hearty. But Amy 
looked game, and I knew she wouldn’t give up 
quite so quick. And when it was my watch on 
deck, I thought to myself I’d have my chances for 
putting in a good word for myself. 

“ We got off past Nantucket Light by mornin’ 
and then it fell a dead calm. Light and baffling 
winds set in for a day or two, and then the glass 
began to fall. Captain Cooper looked anxious, I 
tell you, for we were short of provisions, having 
taken aboard only enough fresh grub for a few 
days. A tremendous swell was a-heavin’ up from 
the south’ard and the passengers didn’t dance any 
more on the quarter-deck, but lay below in their 
bunks thinking ’twasn’t such fun after all, going to 
sea for a picnic. The glass kept falling, and the 
wind began to hum from the sou’west and the 
longer it blew the harder it blew. On the third 
day out the sun didn’t rise, at least we didn’t see 
it, there was such a bank of clouds all around the 
offing. At noon we were hove to on the star- 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 161 

board tack under close reefed top-sails and stay- 
sails, and a very wicked sea piling up from 
sou’west ; not that it was blowing so hard yet, but 
it was agoin’ to blow harder before it blew less, 
and the ship was tender as a new born baby. 

“ After the men had eaten their dinner, Captain 
Cooper said to me : 1 Mr. Foster, send down the 
royal and top-gallant yards. We are in for the 
line gale and no mistake, and the ship ain’t over 
and above stiff.' 

“ It was a big job, I tell you, but it wasn't done 
a minute too soon, for when they struck eight bells 
it was as dark as night, and blowin’ a regular 
screechin’ hurricane. The ship was so light, she 
didn’t take in much water, but she lay over almost 
on her beam ends, and it wouldn’t have taken 
much more to make her turn her keel wrong side 
up. This was a little more than I’d bargained for, 
and I felt my responsibility a great deal more, 
because the girl 1 loved was on board. I made up 
my mind then if ever I married Amy Fernald I 
wouldn’t take her to sea with me. A man faces 
danger far more readily, you see, when he knows 
that those he loves aren’t placing their lives in his 
charge. 

“The wind backed around to south-east and 
north-east. We didn’t dare run, for the ship 
steered so wild. We wore ship when the watch 
changed at midnight and put her on the other 
tack. At four bells there was such a tumult 
of the winds and waves there wasn’t a soul 


1 62 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 

asleep aboard, and the ship lay over so far 
there warn't no fun in it. We were hove to with 
only a bit of canvas laid against the mizzen- 
rigging* the sea making a clean breach over 
the weather-bow, and the lee-rail under water. 
Then we saw a terrible squall a-comin’. It was so 
dark you couldn’t see the length of your hand. 
You couldn’t hear yourself talk. The wind just 
cut off the words like a knife. We must right 
the ship or she’d go over in one of them squalls. 
The word was passed to cut away the mizzen-mast. 
It went by the board and the vessel began to pay 
off ; but when she got into the trough of the sea, 
we had to cut away the main-mast to keep her 
from foundering. The fore-top-mast went with it 
just above the cap. This saved the fore yard. 

Slowly the poor maimed creature payed off before 
the wind, after we’d got the wreck alongside. The 
wind shifted to nor’-west, but bless you, what could 
we do against it. It blew harder than ever out of 
that quarter, and there was only just one thing to 
do and we did it. We goose-winged the foresail 
and scudded. For twenty-four hours there hadn’t 
been a bit of warm food on board. Fore and aft 
there had been nothing to eat but hard-tack and 
salt fish. This was before the day of canned 
meats, you know. ’Twasn’t no use tryin’ to light 
a fire in the galley, the sea came over in such 
quantities, and the ship labored to that degree you 
had to hold on all the time. About ten of the 
mornin’ I could stand it no longer ; I kept thinking 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 163 

of poor Amy, without any tea or hot victuals to 
warm her up. I made shift to heat a little water, 
and made some tea, and went below to serve it to 
the ladies. 

“Oh, thank you ; thank you, Mr. Foster,” said 
Miss Fernald, her eyes brightening up when she 
saw me. “ How nice this is, how thoughtful of 
you to bring it to us. When is this dreadful storm 
going to stop ? Shall we ever get home again ? ” 

“ Don’t worry yourself, Miss Amy,” said I. 
“ It’ll moderate by’m’by, I guess, and with smoother 
water ’t won’t take us long to get to New York.” 

“Just then the ship took an upward lift ; then 
she started to roll almost to her foreyard arms ; 
and then she seemed to stand still half a second. 
I knew what was coming and held my breath. 
A tremendous green sea crashed over the 
stern, breaking in the skylight and half filling the 
cabin with water. It was an awful moment, for if 
another sea like that struck us it would burst the 
decks in. But nothin’ came after it. I flew on 
deck and found Captain Cooper and two of tire 
men had been washed overboard, and the quarter- 
boats too. We could do nothing to save them, and 
I was now captain of the ship ; but by the way the 
gray seas were rolling up astern of us, and hanging 
over the quarter a-hungering to swallow us up, I 
didn’t expect to be captain very long of this or any 
other ship. There was a bark hove to dead ahead 
of us. At the rate we were going we’d be right on 
her before we could come to. She was lying on 


164 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC . 

her beam ends and was wallowing very heavily, as 
if she were full of water. There was but one 
chance for us, and a tough one it was. She might 
go down before we reached her. I took the 
weather-wheel myself and brought the Hyperion 
a mite up to starboard. I didn’t want to make her 
broach to in such a mountainous sea as was run- 
ning. The stranger went down just as we reached 
her ; the Hyperion riz up on a big sea and actually 
scudded right over the taffrail of the sinking ves- 
sel. Her mizzen-mast scraped our port-quarter 
and tore away the mizzen chains. It was the 
closest squeak I ever saw in my life. 

“ We manned the pumps and found the ship was 
still sound, and toward night the lulls began to 
grow longer and the glass began to rise. The 
back of the storm was broken. We were now well 
across the gulf-stream with nothing but the fore- 
mast standing, the prevailing winds being from the 
westward, and our stock of provisions running low. 
I therefore concluded to bear away for Bermuda 
and refit at Georgetown. One thing I meant to 
make sure of this time. I’d have more ballast put 
on board. If it hadn’t been for a foolish economy, 
which you find constantly exhibited in the manage- 
ment of the merchant marine, we’d been in a very 
different place by this time and like as not snug in 
port. 

“ The next day it came on a dead calm. Our 
passengers all came on deck. They didn’t look so 
jolly and rosy as they did when they started. It 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 165 

had been any thing but a pleasure cruise for them, 
I warrant you. It was a solemn time they had 
talking it over, and we were not out of 4 the woods 
yet by a long shot. 

“ ‘ I don’t see what you expect to gain, Mr. Foster, 
by heading for Bermuda,’ said Mr. Dyce to me. 
“ I should think it would be better to keep in the 
track of ships and let them take us off this clumsy 
raft before we starve.’ 

“ * Mr. Dyce,’ said I, ‘ through the providence of 
God I’m master of this ship for the time being and 
must allow no interference with my actions. I 
hope, Providence permittin’, to get you all safe 
home, but I can allow no interference with my 
authority.’ 

“ He didn’t like this and turned away mutterin’ 
to himself. A while after I heard him say to Miss 
Fernald, ‘ I should think you might persuade him 
to change his course. Here we are getting further 
out to sea every minute. It’s a chance whether 
any of us ever get home alive. It seems to me, as 
the ship belongs to your father, you might induce 
him to head up toward the west. It’s our only 
hope, I’m quite sure, Miss Fernald.’ 

“ Then I heard her say : 

“ ‘ I’m certain my father would never permit such 
a thing as interference with the authority of the 
captain on board his own ship. I have heard that 
Captain Foster is a very promising seaman, and I 
think we ought to place confidence in his judg- 
ment. I, at least, shall not say any thing to indi- 


1 66 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC . 

cate any doubt of his capacity to command this 
ship.’ 

“ The calm proved to be a weather-breeder, as I 
feared. After a great gale in the fall of the year 
a storm is liable to repeat itself in a day or two. 
I don’t need to say how terrible anxious I was — 
the ship dismantled, short of provisions and water, 
and cranky as the deuce. We might have been 
a hundred miles from the Bermudas, when a gale 
sprung up from the north’ard. I’d seen it coming 
in the big swells heaving up from that quarter; I’d 
made up my mind what to do, in case of another 
blow. There were two things to consider, the 
safety of the ship and the lives of those on board. 
I was going to save both if I could, but if I couldn't 
do both, I’d look out for the people. Those who 
own and sail ships don’t always act as if they 
thought human life worth a blamed sight more than 
any ship that ever floated. 

“But before it began to blow hard, I found 
I had another job on my hands. Dyce wasn’t 
a coward, but he’d seen all he wanted of the 
sea for one time, and to -do him justice, I sup- 
pose he wanted to see the lady he was trying to 
marry, safe on shore again. I shouldn’t ha’ blamed 
him if this had been all, but he thought he knew 
more 'n any body else, and he’d made up his mind 
that I was too young and inexperienced to have 
charge of a large ship in such uncertain weather. 

“ So what does he do but talk with Mr. Jones, the 
second mate. After the nature of second mates, 


WHA T CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 167 

Jones was down on me when I was mate, and he did 
not like me any better when he found that I’d be- 
come captain. For I was younger than he, both in 
years and in service. He meant well, but he wasn’t 
over and above bright, and Captain Cooper probably 
knew that when he asked me to be mate instead of 
him. And he was a man who could be talked into 
any thing by those who could palaver and din it 
into him. I was below stealing a few winks in my 
bunk, for I was mighty tired with what we’d been 
through, and expecting more of the same sort, 
when Jones and Dyce were getting up a plot to 
force me to head to the westward instead of keep- 
ing on for Bermuda. As I was going on deck at 
eight bells, the steward who was in the cabin, told me 
it was his duty to warn me that there was a mutiny 
a-brewin’ to force me to head to the westward, and 
if I refused they were going to put Mr. Jones in 
my place. I didn’t let on that I knew any thing 
about it when I went on deck but ordered Mr. 
Jones to call all hands to set up a jury mast on the 
stump of the main-mast. The weather looked 
threatening and I ordered them to be lively 
about it. 

“ When the men were all gathered in the waist 
and began to handle a spare main-topmast to h’ist, 
Mr. Jones suddenly came aft with a number of the 
men, among whom I noticed Bob Murphy, a regu- 
lar out-and-out sea lawyer. Them’s the fellows 
who worry crews into mutinies with their impu- 
dence and long tongues. 


1 68 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC . 


“ ‘ Captain Foster,’ said Jones, ‘ if you don’t mind 
my saying it for these 'ere men and for the passen- 
gers we’ve got aboard, I want to say, sir, that it’s 
our opinion we should take a course to the west- 
ward. We don’t see no use in running for Ber- 
muda.’ 

“ ‘ Mr. Jones,’ said I, ‘ I don’t see that you or 
any one else has got any thing to say about the 
course of this ship until we get her to the port for 
which she's bound. I’m master aboard here, and I 
give you warning, I won’t have any one giving 
orders to me.’ 

“ ‘ Mr. Foster,’ answered Jones, ‘ we’d have you 
know that we’ve made up our minds on this 'ere 
subject. The passengers are with us, and I guess 
you’ll have to give some attention to what they 
want.’ 

“‘Yes,’ said Dyce, ‘we're all agreed, Captain 
Foster, that you should alter the course of the ship. 
And if you don’t feel like carrying out the wishes 
of the majority, you should at least give up your 
command to Mr. Jones, who is doubtless able, as 
he is willing, to carry out our wishes.’ 

“ I saw this wasn’t no time for talking, but for 
action. I could see, too, that the men were unwill- 
ing to go into such a thing, and some of them sided 
with me. I stepped up to Jones, and fetching him 
a crack on the side of the head, knocked him flat. 
Then I drew a revolver and dared him resist at the 
peril of his life. I called on the boatswain and the 
carpenter to help me ; they came very readily ; not a 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 169 

man lifted a finger against me, for they saw that I 
knew what I was about, and was equal to the occa- 
sion. I ordered them to lock Mr. Jones in his 
stateroom. I did not want to put him in irons, as 
we were short-handed and I might need him. I 
then turned to Mr. Dyce and said to him : 

“ ‘ Sir, I gave you credit for more sense than to 
meddle with the master of a ship in the discharge 
of his duties. As you are the invited guest of Mr. 
Fernald I shall not treat you as you deserve unless 
you give me cause to do so. But for the rest of 
the v’y’ge I must request you to remain in the 
cabin.’ 

“ ‘ But, Captain Foster, you don’t mean to say 
that you propose to give orders to me ! ’ he 
exclaimed, his eyes sticking right out with amaze- 
ment, and his cheeks coloring with excitement and 
shame, for Miss Fernald and some of her friends 
were on deck and had seen it all. 

“ 1 1 do indeed order you, Mr. Dyce, to remain 
below for the rest of the v’y’ge. I hope you will 
not oblige me to use force to carry out my or- 
ders.’ 

“ He said nothing more, but went below as 
peaceable as you please, but I could see he was 
trembling with rage. The ladies were on deck 
when this happened. I presumed they wouldn’t 
like it, but when I looked around and saw Amy I 
knew that it was all right. Like her friends, she 
looked serious, and perhaps a bit alarmed ; but 
when she looked at me her face lighted up and she 


170 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 

smiled approvingly. I felt that she was on my 
side and would stand by me if ever we got to 
port again. 

“ But there wasn’t time for thinking and talking 
any more about this, for it was breezing up fast and 
I saw we were in for a wild night. I called Bill 
Stephens aft and told him he might serve as mate 
until further orders. I’d made up my mind that 
the best thing for us to do was to get to the south- 
’ard among the Bahamas, and refit and provision 
there. With the Gulf Stream and the prevailing 
westerly winds we could then run up along the 
coast to New York. We could now set a foresail 
and jib and a jury mainsail and stay-sail, and with 
these I felt prepared for almost any thing. The 
loss of her upper spars relieved the ship some, and 
she didn’t feel so much the lack of ballast. I also 
found a cask of oil on board which made me feel 
easier, in case we had to heave to again. But we 
were now so short of provisions that I was forced 
to put every one on short allowance. This made me 
feel more uneasy than any thing else about our sit- 
uation. We were out of the track of vessels, and it 
was now of the last importance we should get 
where there was at least something to eat and 
drink. It blew hard from nor’ nor’-west for two 
days, with a very heavy sea, but we ran before it 
without any accident ; I thought of the ladies 
below and kept the best men at the wheel. On the 
morning of the third day after this gale began, the 
weather being clear, fortunately, and getting warmer 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 17 1 

all the time, the look-out on the fore-yard sang out, 
i land ho.’ 

“ Lord, you should have seen them piling out 
from the cabin, the ladies with their hair a-stream- 
ing in the wind, for they weren’t more than half 
dressed. They had a thousand questions to ask 
and I declare I never saw a prettier sight than them 
girls all crowding about me wanting to take a look 
through the glass and asking what land it was. 
I’d got a sight the day before and when we took 
the longitude at eight bells I knew the land must 
be somewhere near Harbor Island and Eleuthera. 
By noon we were close to it, and could see the 
palm groves waving above the sea and the roofs of 
the houses. I’d been there once before so I thought 
we could run in without a pilot, although its tick- 
lish navigation getting into Harbor Island around 
the wicked reef they call the Devil’s Backbone. 
Perhaps you don’t know that the water there 
is shoal among those islands, over a bottom of fine 
white sand. The water is green as polished 
emerald and clear as glass. But wherever there 
are rocks then the water is purple over them and 
on a bright day you can generally make out to steer 
clear of reefs if you keep the lead going and have a 
Ieading-wind. 

“The day was just beautiful. The wind had mod- 
erated to a fresh breeze and the air was soft as a 
lady’s hand on your cheek. We got into Harbor 
Island before night and anchored between Dunmore 
Town and Eleuthera; it’s about a mile between 


172 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 

the islands and and there isn’t a snugger port to be 
found anywhere. The first thing we did was to 
signal for a boat ; our boats, you see, had been car- 
ried away. When the boat came we sent right off 
for provisions. The darkies brought off a pig and 
no end of vegetables and jelly cocoanuts. We all 
felt so good to get where we could have a night’s 
rest in peace that I told Jones and Dyce they could 
come on deck and I’d say no more about it, if they’d 
mind their own business. The first time for weeks 
the fragrance of fresh meat came from the galley and 
after supper the ladies and gentlemen had a dance 
on the quarter-deck. The new moon shone clear 
in the west and most of them saw the Southern 
Cross for the first time. 

“ The next day I made arrangements to put new 
spars on the ship. I couldn’t expect to rig her 
there all taut, but I found some old masts and 
yards there that would do to take us to New York. 
I gave the passengers their choice to remain on 
board while we lay there, or to go to a house on 
shore ; or, ‘ if you like,’ said I, ‘ I’ll rig up tents 
for you in the cocoanut grove on Eleuthera and you 
can have your picnic in regular style.’ 

“ The ladies clapped their hands and cried, ‘ oh, 
that would be splendid.’ So it was agreed- that we 
should picnic it on shore. I put up two tents just 
on the edge of a thick grove of cocoa palms, which 
stands on the beach near the fields of pineapples 
that grow on a red earth and which they say are 
the best in the world. We might have gone over 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 173 

to Nassau to refit, but we were in a good place, 
and on account of the ladies, who were all tired out, 
I guessed we had better remain at Harbor Island. 

“ The darkey pickaninnies used to climb the 
trees for us whenever we wanted fresh cocoanuts, 
and Amy said if it weren’t for the folks at home 
who’d be terrible anxious about us she’d like to stay 
there all winter. That’s the best season there, you 
know. I noticed she didn’t have much to say to 
Mr. Dyce now and I also noticed that he began to 
watch her pretty sharp whenever she had any talk 
with me. So I concluded that he saw she had 
a liking for me, but I'm sure there was nothing in 
my manner toward her to show that I could hardly 
think of any thing else I was so dead in love with 
her. If I loved her before, I loved her ten times as 
much now, because a sailor likes to see a woman 
show courage and spirit, and when such a woman 
shows confidence in him too in time of danger, it 
makes him feel better satisfied with himself. But 
then I didn’t mean to take advantage of her, seeing 
that she was in my charge and that I was on my 
honor, as it were, not to get her affection while I 
was commanding her father’s ship, and he opposed 
to me for a son-in-law. 

“ But you can’t always regulate those things in 
life. Sometimes destiny throws chances in your 
way in such a manner that you feel it's trifling with 
fortune to refuse. 

“ In the calm, moonlight evenings we used to go 
out rowing in the lagoon. The darkies rowed us 


174 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 

in their boats, singing at the oars. I never saw any 
thing so lovely — the shadows of the palm groves 
sleeping on the still water, the moon gleaming on 
the sea, and the muffled roll of the surf on the bar. 
If I were a poet I would have written poetry then. 
But anyway, we practiced it, and that to my think- 
ing is better than all the written poetry. 

“ One night we all went down toward Bottom 
Cove. The boat was, perhaps, a trifle overloaded, 
but the water was smooth and if we didn’t move 
about too much there wasn’t any thing to fear. The 
ladies sang ‘ Home, Sweet Home ’ and ‘ Oft in the 
Stilly Night,’ and then we talked about the folks at 
home and wondered what they were thinking about 
us, and whether they thought we were all lost at 
sea. We expected to sail the next day, if the 
weather held good, and this was our last row at 
Harbor Island. We’d all enjoyed our stay there so 
much that we almost felt sad to think that our 
dream of happiness was over. I know how I felt, 
for I thought to myself perhaps I shall never have 
such another time with the girl I love. 

“ Amy was sitting at my side. The moon had 
gone down and the purple gloom of night concealed 
every thing. Only the stars were gleaming over 
head, and little by little we stopped talking as we 
drew near the camp on the beach. I didn’t feel 
like saying any thing with Amy so near me, per- 
haps for the last time. 

“ Suddenly I seemed to become aware that she 
was nestling a little closer to me. I looked around 


IV// AT GAME OF A SEA P/CN/C. 175 

and her eyes met mine shining in the dark. I took 
her hand ; she did not take it away. Then I knew 
it was settled and that she was mine. 

“ I just wanted to get up and shout I was so 
happy. But I said nothing, only just held her hand 
tighter until we heard the sea-wind whispering in 
the palms and felt the boat grate on the sand. 
Still holding her hand, I lifted her out of the boat 
and led her to the tent. Then I went aboard the 
ship, but I didn’t turn in till they rung out eight 
bells for the middle watch. There wasn’t a hap- 
pier man in the world. 

“ The next day we took down the tents and put 
to sea. I’d managed to get up a jury mizzen-mast 
and stumps topmasts, so that we could set quite a 
good spread of canvas. We also took in a fresh 
store of water and provisions and forty tons more 
of stone ballast, and I felt that we were now much 
more ready to meet heavy weather than when we 
sailed from Newburyport. 

“ We took a sou’-west breeze when we cleared the 
land, and made a fine run to Hatteras. We had a 
heavy blow off the cape but stood it well, and in 
ten days were off Sandy Hook and took a pilot. A 
tug took us in tow in the channel and then we were 
all right. The v’y’ge home I had said nothing to 
Amy about the matter that was nearest to our 
hearts ; but from the way she looked at me I knew 
that she had made up her mind and that it was in 
my favor. 

“ We were standing aft near the companion-way, 


1 7 6 WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 


and I was pointing out the city to her. We were 
left alone for a moment and I said, ‘ Amy, if your 
father says Yes, what will you say?’ 

“ She answered, ‘ I will say Yes, too.’ 

“ That was all we said about our love the whole 
v’y’ge, but it was enough. 

“To make a long story short, the old gentleman 
came to New York as soon as he got the telegram 
saying the Hyperion was safe there. He had 
given her up for lost, and never expected to see 
his child again. 

“ The underwriters were pleased enough when 
they heard how I had saved the ship, and they pre- 
sented me with a service of plate for my wife, as 
they said, when I should get one. But Mr. Fer- 
nald never could say enough about it, and he told 
me I should have the command of the Hyperion , for 
I’d fairly earned it ; and, to tell the truth, I think I 
had. But when I asked him for the hand of his 
daughter, he looked sober and said he must con- 
sult Mrs. Fernald. A few days after I got a 
letter saying that they’d no objection to me for a 
son-in-law if I did as well on the next v’y’ge. 

“ The v’y’ge turned out a great success. We 
made a fine run out to Bombay and home ; and 
when we returned to New York I found Amy wait- 
ing for me there. The day we were married the 
old gentleman made me a present of this ship, and 
I named her the Amy Fernald. 

“ Soon after we were married I had her portrait 
took, and that’s the picture you’ve seen hanging in 


WHAT CAME OF A SEA PICNIC. 177 

my cabin. I always have the picture with me when 
I go to sea. The artist wanted to take her without 
her bonnet, but I insisted that she should look just 
as she did the day I met her in the street, when I 
came back from my first v’y’ge. That’s the dress 
and lace shawl she wore that day, and that’s the 
way, while the wind was blowing her curls about, 
she held up her fan and smiled at me, until my 
heart was in my throat and I was in such a state I 
didn’t know whether I stood on my head or heels. 
Whenever I pass before that picture, I think what a 
lucky fellow I am, and that there aren’t many 
ship-masters who have such a wife and such a ship. 

“ But it’s struck eight bells and I guess I’ll turn 
in. If this wind holds, we’ll be around the cape in 
ten days, and I hope we’ll see the Highland Lights 
in good time. I propose to stay at home after this 
v’y’ge, for Amy says she doesn’t believe husbands 
should be away so much from their wives, and no 
more do I.” 



A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 















A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


F EW of those who have heard of, or have seen, 
the trim pilot-boats of New York Bay are aware 
what a thorough preparatory education and experi- 
ence is required of a New York pilot. Nor is it 
generally known how systematic is the organization 
which regulates the movements of these pilots, and 
what hazards they must encounter in plying their 
vocation on the boisterous Atlantic. The following 
account of a trip on one of these schooners may 
therefore be of interest and value : 

Having accepted a cordial invitation to take a 
cruise in the Caprice , my friend Mr. Burns and 
myself were notified to keep ourselves in readiness to 
sail at a moment’s warning. The schooner was 
then at sea, but was expected back at any hour to 
pick up her pilots and provisions. More than a 
week passed, however, before we were notified to 
be at the pier on the following morning. We 
repaired at the appointed hour to the office of the 
Pilot Commissioners — a low-studded, elbow-shaped 
room, on the corner of Burling Slip. A massive 
antique mahogany desk at one side served 
partially to conceal the busy secretary of the 


1 82 A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT.. 

department, whose position is by no means a sine- 
cure. All the multifarious accounts, together with 
most of the shore business of the pilots, pass under 
his eye. Between two windows stood a large and 
elaborate chronometer clock, including with it a 
barometer and thermometer, and around the room 
were ranged a number of ship-like closets or lock- 
ers. One by one the pilots straggled in, took a look 
at the glass, and discussed the prospects of the 
weather, which was pronounced to be unusually 
foreboding, with the mercury ranging below 
twenty-nine degrees and a sky of the most sinister 
aspect. 

By half-past nine, the pilots who belonged to 
the Caprice having arrived, we started for the pier 
where she was lying. I confess the prospect of a 
cruise in such a graceful little craft filled me with 
enthusiasm. She was ninety-six feet long and 
twenty feet beam, and drew eleven feet aft. Not 
over-sparred, like too many of our yachts, her masts 
were beautiful sticks and admirably proportioned, 
without a knot or crack. The cabin was coziness 
itself ; nothing can exceed the comfort of a snug 
little cabin when all hands but the watch are be- 
low, the swinging lamp is lit, and the long steady 
howl of the gale, and the boom of the seas breaking 
on deck, blend in a sublime organ-peal — the 
tumult of the storm often rising above the jests 
and yarns of the men gathered around the table or 
lying in their bunks with feet dangling over the 
side. A stove was firmly fixed in the centre, on a 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 183 

brightly burnished plate of brass. On each side 
were a stateroom and two berths that could be 
closed by slides. The galley and quarters of the 
' crew were amidships, and were divided from the 
cabin by a bulkhead. The crew included four 
able seamen, a swarthy Lascar cook, a cabin-boy 
and the boat-keeper. The latter commands the 
schooner, and takes her back to port after all the 
pilots have been put on board other vessels. But 
before that, the boat is under the direction of the 
pilot whose turn it is to board the next ship. 

We put to sea with six pilots, the full comple- 
ment being seven. These formed a joint-stock 
company, but while all were licensed pilots, they 
were not all of equal rank. This matter of rank 
underlies the whole princr'ples involved in piloting 
according to the laws of the State of New York, 
and a r/sumJ of the regulations is therefore per- 
tinent, while the schooner is making sail. The 
number of pilot-boats licensed to run out of the 
port of New York is fixed by law ; it is now (1887) 
twenty-two, and they register from forty to 
seventy tons. Each boat is obliged to carry its 
number in enormous black figures on the mainsail. 
These boats are owned by about one hundred and 
thirty-three pilots, but, strange to say, they are 
never said to be manned except when left in charge 
of the boat-keeper. Including pilots and crews, this 
fleet of schooners gives employment to nearly four 
hundred men. In this survey we do not, of 
course, include the New Jersey pilots who sail out 


184 A CRUISE IN A PILOT BOAT. 


of New York Bay, but are subject to the laws of 
the other State. This number is by no means 
excessive when we consider that the foreign en- 
tries and departures of vessels in the port of New 
York are at present over ten thousand a year, 
while the coastwise entries and departures are 
nearly four times that number. Coasting vessels, 
though they often find it expedient to employ a 
pilot, are at liberty to decline to take one. But 
vessels coming from, or bound to, foreign ports 
have no option in the matter. If a pilot-boat can 
get near enough to hail them, they must either 
accept a pilot or pay the full charges he would be 
entitled to receive if he boarded that ship. This 
law is by no means so unfair as some might regard 
it. The pilots must devote much time and expense 
to qualify themselves for their business, and are 
exposed to great perils. Unless they are protected 
by the laws from the whims of sea-captains, the 
profits of pilotage would be so reduced that it 
would be impossible to induce capable men to 
enter the service. While it may be alleged that in 
fine weather their services are often not needed, 
on the other hand, emergencies frequently arise 
when a good pilot is indispensable. 

The responsibility devolving on a pilot, and the 
extent of his qualifications, may be partly appre- 
ciated when one learns that, immediately on 
boarding a vessel, he takes command, and is 
answerable for any accident until he has discharged 
his duty of taking the vessel in or out of port. If 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 185 

any mishap befall the ship at that time, he is liable 
to have his license revoked, and thus lose all fur- 
ther opportunity of plying his vocation. The New 
York pilot must, therefore, for the good of ail con- 
cerned, pass through a long and rigorous course 
of training. He riiust serve, man and boy, before 
the mast till he masters every problem in the 
management of every form of rig. To this he 
must add a thorough knowledge of navigation. 
Then he must contrive to obtain the position of 
boat-keeper or pilot’s mate. In that capacity, he 
must serve three full years on one pilot-boat before 
he can be admitted for his examination for a 
license. If through ill-fortune he lose his position, 
he must begin de novo , and serve the full time on 
another boat. Sometimes a boat-keeper serves nine 
or ten years on various boats before his apprentice- 
ship is complete. After all this preparation, he 
must pass a most rigid examination on all points of 
seamanship and navigation before the Board of Pilot 
Commissioners, and exhibit a thorough knowledge 
of the tides, rips, sands, and all other phenomena 
for hundreds of miles out from the piers of the 
East and North Rivers. But even after receiving 
his license, he is sometimes forced to wait years, 
until some pilot happens to die and leave a vacancy 
for him. The first year of pilotage, he is granted 
a license to pilot vessels drawing less than sixteen 
feet. If he give satisfaction, the following year he 
is permitted to take charge of ships drawing 
eighteen feet. If he pass a satisfactory examina- 


I 86 A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT \ 

tion the third year, he then receives a full license, 
entitling him to pilot vessels of any draught, and is 
then first called a branch or full pilot. 

This matter of draft often gives rise to amusing 
maneuvers between captain and pilot — the former 
sometimes endeavoring to evade a correct state- 
ment of the actual draft of the vessel at the time, 
and the latter in turn employing his wits to get at 
the truth without appearing to doubt the word of 
the captain. Vessels drawing under fourteen feet 
pay three dollars and seventy cents a foot ; the rate 
increases by degrees, until ships drawing twenty- 
one feet and upward pay six dollars and fifty cents 
per foot. 

On receiving his license, the pilot must give 
bonds for the proper discharge of his duty, and he 
is liable to heavy fines if he declines to fill a vacancy 
or to board a vessel making signals for a pilot. 
He is also required to be temperate in his habits 
and of reputable character. The proper execution 
of these regulations is to a large degree insured by 
the great competition among the boats, and the 
consequent vigilance of each to detect delinquencies 
in his rivals. 

It is evident that to be a New York pilot is no 
sinecure, and that the position is one of great 
responsibility and trust. 

In a few moments the Caprice was stealing past 
Castle Garden, and leaving behind her the tower- 
ing roofs and spires of the lower part of New York. 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 187 

Nothing could be more disheartening than the pall 
of sullen clouds that hung over the bay. There 
was scarcely any wind, but the glass and the sky 
indicated that we were either in the centre of a 
revolving storm or that one was rapidly approach- 
ing. But there were also signs of a shift of the 
wind into the north-west, and a few vessels bound 
south had concluded to venture out, and were 
gliding with the tide toward the Narrows. 

No sooner had we put off into the stream than 
the pilots began to look about for a possible prize. 
Their keen enterprise was illustrated sooner than 
I expected. Scarcely had we shoved off from the 
pier when we saw a schooner putting to sea a mile 
away. 

“ Johnnie, head her for that schooner,” said one 
of the pilots to the man at the wheel. 

“You can’t catch her,” said another. 

“Yes, we can. She’s only got her foresail and 
jib up.” 

“ She’ll have her mainsail up in a minute. They’re 
hoisting it now.” 

“ I don’t care if they be. We’ll catch her, any- 
way.” 

And catch her we did, by making all sail with 
man-of-war speed. Hauling under her stern, we 
hailed her, and sent a pilot on board to guide her 
past Sandy Hook. We then took some provisions 
from Staten Island, and glided through the Nar- 
rows. We picked up our pilot at the station-boat. 
This leads us to notice that one of the pilot fleet is 


i88 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


always stationed off Sandy Hook, to serve as a 
rendezvous to pilots when they leave vessels, after 
having piloted them out of New York. The boat 
anchors between the lightship and Sandy Hook for 
four days, when another boat takes her place. 
When the weather is very bad, the station-boat lies 
off and on. Some times she is forced to make a 
harbor herself, but it is wild weather indeed when 
she is obliged to do that. A penalty of one hun- 
dred dollars a day is enforced on every boat that 
delays to appear at the station when its turn has 
arrived. 

The storm signal was flying at Sandy Hook, but 
it is not for pilots to observe its warning, and we 
ran out to sea and headed south. At night-fall we 
double-reefed the mainsail and hove to. We were 
now in the water where the Caprice , at Christmas- 
time several years ago, encountered the most fright- 
ful dangers. Every sea that came on board froze, 
until the ice on deck was twelve inches thick, 
and it was feared she might flounder with the 
weight of the ice. Great blocks of ice grew on the 
furled jib, and could not be detached without tear- 
ing the sail. On New Year’s Eve, William Wright, 
the boat-keeper, entered in the ship’s log-book : 
“January ist and a happy New Year!” Five 
days after that, another hand entered on the pages 
of the same log-book the following terse but tragic 
record : “ Thursday, 6th. Blowing hard from N. E. 
At 4 a. m. hauled the jib down. Lost a man off 
the bowsprit. Hove the yawl out and lost two men 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 189 

and the yawl ; then hove the other yawl out and 
lost her. Lay around tacking till daylight, and 
kept a lookout on the mast-head till 8 a. m. Then 
started for town at 1 p. m.” One of these poor 
fellows was Wright, the boat-keeper. One month 
more, and he would have been licensed as a 
pilot ! 

Two years before this, the Caprice had been on 
her beam-ends in a terrific squall, losing both 
masts and a man who was in the rigging. On still 
another occasion she was tripped by a huge wave 
and nearly filled. Momentarily expecting her to 
go down, the crew took to the boats and were 
picked up. The schooner survived the gale, how- 
ever, was towed into port by a passing vessel, and 
was repurchased at auction by her former owners. 
On another occasion she was run into by a steamer, 
cut down to the water’s edge and sunk in shoal 
water, from which she was raised again. She 
seems to lead a charmed life, but her career well 
illustrates some of the hazards of piloting — which 
are so well appreciated by the underwriters that 
they charge ten per cent, premium for insuring 
pilot-boats. 

Nothing of note occurred during the first night, 
and after running south for a few hours after day- 
light, we had just hove to again with the helm 
lashed, when the lookout at the mast-head cried : 

“ A pilot-boat on the weather bow, sir ! ” 

Immediately the order rang out, in quick, sharp 
tones : 


19 ° A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 

“ Shake out the reefs in the mainsail and keep 
her away ! ” 

An exciting race now followed between the two 
pilot-boats, several miles apart, to reach a large ship 
standing north. Now rising, now plunging into 
the gray seas, and staggering under a press of can- 
vas, we neared the prize, only to see it snatched 
from our grasp by the other boat. No sooner was 
that fact ascertained than we shortened sail, the 
lookout was sent aloft to his usual eyrie at the fore 
cross-trees, and the pilots, without so much as a 
word of regret, returned to studying the chart, 
reading a threadbare novel, fingering the well- 
thumbed cards, or snatching a little sleep in their 
bunks. This is about the ordinary routine in a 
pilot-schooner during good weather — intervals of 
seeming quiet broken by sudden alternations of the 
utmost excitement, together with a feverish, endless 
vigilance from mast-head and deck. 

Nothing of note occurred on the third day ; the 
recent prevailing winds had kept vessels out at 
sea. The third night it blew half a gale, and we 
hove to under close reefs about forty miles south- 
east of Barnegat light. About ten o’clock, the 
lights of a steamer heading northward were faintly 
descried in the mysterious gloom that overhung 
the sea. 

“ Give her a torch ! ” was the order that instan- 
taneously followed the discovery. A tub containing 
turpentine was brought on deck ; a ball of cotton 
was dipped into this and set on fire. It resembled 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 191 

the contrivance used to light cigars, except on a 
larger and ruder scale. The torch was held so as 
to illuminate the large numbers on the mainsail. 
Nothing more picturesque can be imagined than 
this contrast of light and shade — the dark figure 
in uncouth oil suit standing on the low, reeling 
deck, fiercely whirling the ball of fire over his head, 
and the ruddy sail and rigging clear-cut against 
the impenetrable blackness of night, while the wind 
whistled through the cordage and the foam seemed 
to turn into blood as it washed on board. 

The steamer, which proved to be a coastwise 
craft, gradually drew nearer and passed by, heed- 
less of the signal. The excitement was over, and 
all hands but the watch turned in. At four we 
signaled a second steamer, and discovered the torch 
of another schooner in our vicinity. 

On the following morning, a wild scene presented 
itself to view when I went on deck. The gale 
which had been blowing around us, and of which 
we had had a taste during the night, had suddenly 
shifted into the north-west, and was shrieking out 
of that quarter, with every prospect of increasing. 
The quick, short, emerald waves, smitten with the 
gold of the sun bursting over the low shores of 
New Jersey, were streaked with foam and were 
rising fast. As it was useless to look for in-bound 
vessels with this wind, and as its force might 
increase to a troublesome degree, we decided to 
beat in under the land, where we should find smooth 
water. It was a long and arduous pounding with 


192 A CRUISE IN A PILOT BOAT. 

the seas, but finally we found ourselves close under 
the sand dunes of Little Egg Harbor. Then we 
wore ship, and trimmed the sheets to run up the 
coast to Sandy Hook. Several other pilot-boats 
were in company, and an impromptu race immedi- 
ately ensued. 

Not to speak too technically, it suffices to say 
we were under very short sail. The sky was a 
clear, crisp azure, flecked with swiftly-scudding 
wind-clouds. The blasts swept off the land 
with exceeding violence and suddenness, laying 
the little vessel over on her side and burying her 
lee rail under a mass of boiling foam, the spray 
smoking under her bow the while, and blowing off 
to leeward in sheets. Thus hour after hour went 
by in this stimulating race. Hour after hour, also, 
we threaded our way through a fleet of coasting 
schooners, that were taking advantage of the 
northerly gale to run down the coast in ballast. 
Their swelling sails gleamed like flakes of flame 
over the intense amethystine blue of the sea, that 
was ridged with long crests of foam. We flew past 
the lofty light-house of Barnegat and its whitening 
reefs, past the cedar-tufted banks of Manasquan, 
the sloping cottages of Elberon, the spacious hotels 
of Long Branch, the pointed gables of Seabright, 
and the twin watch-towers of the Highlands, until 
the sentinel shaft of Sandy Hook loomed grandle 
in the north, and the glow of the setting sun 
suffused land and sea and sky with indescribably 
splendor. Then we headed up into a cove behind 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 193 

the Hook, dropped anchor close by the beach, and 
went below to a smoking supper. Though the 
quartering moon shone gloriously that evening, we 
all snatched a much-needed slumber before ven- 
turing out once more to encounter the wild 
March winds on the gray wastes of the At- 
lantic. 

At dawn we made sail, and stood due east along 
the shore of Long Island before half a gale of wind. 
At ten o’clock we discovered a pilot-boat ahead, 
and crowded on sail to over-haul her. While she 
was in sight our movements would be necessarily 
influenced by her own. Finding that we were over- 
hauling her, she finally put her helm down and 
headed south. 

We kept on to the east, deciding to go as far as 
Saint George’s Bank after steamers. These vessels 
are the great prizes in the pilot lottery, because 
their draft averages more than that of sailing ships. 
To secure an in-bound steamer also insures piloting 
her out again. Ocean steamers are therefore very 
desirable game, and great risks are encountered in 
order to intercept them. The opposite extreme 
are Norwegian barks, for they are small and gen- 
erally come to this country in ballast. “To get a 
Norwegian bark ” is therefore considered a good 
joke on the poor fellow whose luck it is to board 
one. Steamers which are exclusively freight boats, 
and are irregular in their sailing days and slow in 
their movements, are called “ tramps,” and are also 
not held in high esteem by the pilots. The cruises 


194 A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT . 

to the eastward are sometimes, although rarely, 
protracted to twenty or thirty days. But the average 
luck is good. 

The following evening, when we were well east- 
ward of Nantucket light-ship, a steamer was re- 
ported heading directly for us. Immediately the 
cards were flung aside, and in a moment every soul 
was on deck. The pilot whose turn it was to board 
the next vessel, after a hurried survey of the 
steamer, exclaimed : 

“Boys, good-by. Finish the game for your- 
selves ! ” 

He then dashed below, and in all haste put on a 
“ boiled ” shirt and a “ Sunday-go-to-meeting suit,” 
and packed his valise. It should be remembered 
that steamers are rather more “ swell ” than sailing 
ships, and seem to demand a corresponding differ- 
ence in apparel. In the meantime, the torch was 
blazing on deck in the liveliest manner. The needle- 
like points of light representing the steamer gradu- 
ally approached, and at last the huge, vague form of 
the vessel herself could be defined. But she already 
had a pilot, and paid no attention to us. The 
game in the cabin was resumed at once, and the 
“ boiled ” shirt was once more folded up and laid 
away carefully in the locker. The precariousness 
of steamer-catching is well illustrated by this matter 
of dressing to board them. One of our pilots told 
us that he had actually shaved and dressed six 
times in one trip, for a steamer, before he had suc- 
ceeded in boarding one. There is a tradition of a 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 195 

pilot who dressed seventeen times before success 
crowned his perseverance. 

Morning broke on a savage scene ; enormous 
mounds of water, crested with foam, swelled up 
against the sky and tossed the little Caprice like an 
egg-shell. The gale increasing with great fury, we 
hove to under try-sails — sails scarcely larger than a 
table-cloth, showing a spread of canvas so moderate 
that, as they say at sea, we were under “ a three- 
reefed mitten with the thumb brailed up.” The 
squalls were tremendous, and were accompanied by 
blinding sheets of snow, which seemed to sweep 
from the horizon in a moment and envelop the sea 
in impenetrable gloom ; the decks and rigging 
were robed in ermine. The gale increased to a 
hurricane. The little schooner for the most part 
rode easily, but sometimes a sea, that seemed to go 
bodily over her, would strike her, and might have 
sunk her but for the low bulwarks, only a foot high, 
that allowed the water to run off ; sometimes, too, 
she was carried over so far that there was danger 
of her rolling completely over. Three times during 
the day we wore ship in order that we might not be 
driven out of the track of the steamers ; whatever 
the weather, business was never forgotten. This 
maneuver was, under the circumstances, one of 
extreme peril, and required the greatest skill and 
circumspection. 

The sun went down over one of the wildest 
scenes I have ever witnessed at sea. With some 
difficulty we managed to get supper, while the deaf- 


196 A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT . 


ening roar of the howling winds and the thunder 
of the surges pounding on deck almost deadened 
the conversation that went on uninterruptedly 
below ; yarns were told, and intricate problems 
with cards were discussed by men in oil jackets and 
sou’-westers, while the cook served out rations of 
hot coffee. Any moment a terrible catastrophe was 
likely to overwhelm us, but it was not in the nature 
of the sailor, after he has taken every precaution, 
to borrow trouble about possibilities. A vivid flash 
of lightning at long intervals indicated that the 
gale was approaching its height, and it was decided 
to put up stanchions, or posts, in the cabin. These 
were firmly fixed between the timbers of the deck 
and the cabin floor, to keep the ballast from shift- 
ing in case a sudden lurch should throw the 
schooner on her beam-ends. If the ballast had 
shifted, it would have been all over with us in a 
moment. So violent was the lurching and creaking 
of the little vessel, all that long, dreary night, that 
no one slept until toward dawn, when the weather 
moderated slightly. 

But while the wind was less fierce and steady, it 
blew hard at intervals, and the temperature was so 
low that the deck was covered with a layer of ice. At 
noon we succeeded in getting an observation, the 
pale sun flashing for a moment through the scud and 
causing the heaving deep to look like molten silver. 
We were in longitude 66° 30' and in forty-eight 
fathoms of water, and were heading south-west, 
under very short sail, when a fearful squall dark- 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 197 

e'ned the horizon and rushed toward us with appall- 
ing rapidity. At the same instant the look-out dis- 
covered two* steamers and a pilot-boat to the 
eastward. The wildest excitement ensued. Reefs 
faere shaken out, notwithstanding the squall, and 1 
the little schooner flew before the blast as if 
bewitched. The “ boiled ” shirt was put on again, 
winds and waves were defied, and every thing was 
forgotten except the great fact that we must snatch 
the steamers from the clutches of the rival pilot- 
boat under our lee. When the dense pall of gloom 
finally passed off to leeward, the southernmost 
steamer was discovered to have been boarded by 
our rival. Every effort that skill could devise was 
then put forth to catch the other steamer. As we 
lessened the distance, the Caprice was hove to and 
awaited her approach. Slowing up, the great 
Cunarder gradually drew toward us, majestically 
mounting and plunging on the vast surges, while 
cataracts poured from her hawse-holes as the bow 
soared skyward. At this exciting moment an enor- 
mous whale, little, if any, shorter than our schooner, 
arose close alongside the Caprice , and, spouting 
as if to salute her, dived again into the depths. 

The yawl, only sixteen feet long, was now 
launched over our lee side into the frothing waters, 
and with two seamen and a pilot started for the 
steamer, then a quarter of a mile distant. I con- 
fess it was a thrilling spectacle to see this mere 
cockle-shell, with her precious freight of three 
lives, now lifted far above us on a mountainous bil- 


198 A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 

low, and now descending out of sight into the 
depths of a hollow vale, and hiding there until it 
seemed as if she would never appear again. 

By slow degrees the yawl succeeded in reaching 
the lee side of the steamer. There again the great- 
est prudence was required to prevent her from 
being swamped by the action of the mighty hull, 
rolling deep in the turbulent sea. At last we saw 
the pilot, the merest speck, spring on the ladder 
and creep up the side of the steamer. Then came 
the yet more difficult task of picking up the yawl. 
The way it was done was by holding her head to 
the wind, and allowing her to drift down toward the 
schooner. By wearing, we kept directly in the 
track of the yawl ; she slipped across our stern, 
and pulling up under the lee side, was hauled on 
board. 

As can be easily imagined, one of the pilot’s most 
arduous duties is to board a vessel in heavy 
weather. Each pilot-schooner is provided with two 
yawls. They are lashed to the deck, bottom up- 
ward, and are lifted and launched over the low 
side of the schooner by means of a light tackle 
reaching down from the mast-heads, and hooked 
into the stem and stern. The pilot-yawls differ 
from other boats in that they are short, broad, and 
deep, and are thus very buoyant. It is not an un- 
common circumstance for men to be lost when 
boarding vessels. Both yawls of one of our New 
York pilot-boats were successively capsized the 
previous winter, when trying to board the Arizona in 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


199 


a gale of wind. Happily the men were picked up 
by the life-boats of the steamer, after great 
exertion. 

It is with regret I must add that the pilots are 
sometimes unfairly treated by the captains of the 
regular transatlantic lines. There is too often a 
disreputable reason why these steamers give the 
go-by to pilot-boats that are almost within hail, and 
pick up another that is beyond. Almost every 
passenger who has crossed on the regular lines has 
had experience of the various blackmailing schemes 
that are sprung on the passengers toward the close 
of the voyage. Now it is to make up a purse for 
the captain, who has simply done his duty for a 
good salary, and no more requires a testimonial 
than other men who fulfill their duty in their chosen 
pursuits ; or, again, money is solicited for some 
absurd or imaginary scheme, generally in the name 
of charity. Only those who have crossed a number 
of times discover that this is blackmail pure and 
simple under disguise, and that it is generally 
engineered by blatant and officious passengers, 
who have axes of their own to grind. It is black- 
mail because it is generally brought forward in 
such a manner that even those who see through 
the business are forced to contribute, in order to 
avoid the charge of stinginess. But the worst form 
of this vile business which assails the luckless pas- 
senger on board these steamships is the system of 
gambling called betting on the number of the pilot- 
boat that shall board the steamer. 


200 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


I remember a clergyman, inexperienced in mat- 
ters of real life, who urged me to subscribe to the 
list of those who were betting on the number of our 
prospective pilot-boat. “ My dear sir," I replied 
to him, “ don’t you see that this is nothing more 
nor less than gambling ? ” But he would not be 
convinced, and lost his money. Why he lost, and 
why others lose on such a wager, is explicable in a 
few words. The captain and some of his officers 
often join in the betting — of course through other 
persons — or they have friends among the bettors 
whom they are willing to favor. The passengers, 
on the other hand, are generally so ignorant of 
nautical matters that the captain can do as he 
pleases with little risk of detection. For this rea- 
son, he can steer out of the way of a pilot-boat 
that is not the one on which he has staked his 
money, and go out of his course to take a pilot from 
the boat on which he has staked his money. It is 
true that, sometimes, he may not come across that 
one ; but, in most cases, the game is in his hands, 
while the passenger, on the other hand, little knows 
that he is so heavily handicapped. We have heard 
that the master of one of the largest steamers going 
out of New York had a serious altercation, growing 
out of a transaction of this sort, with one of his 
passengers, who was sharper than the majority of 
his class. 

On the eighth day out, we were four hundred 
and fifty miles east of New York, on the southern 
edge of Saint George’s Bank. At one time, we 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


201 


passed off soundings into blue water for a few 
hours, a fact proclaimed in sonorous tones by one 
of the pilots, when he sang out : 


“ No sound, 

No ground, 

No bottom to be found 
With a long pitch-pine pole, daddy.” 


The day was gloriously beautiful, the sky cloudless 
and the swell remaining after the gale was scarcely 
dimpled by the zephyr-like cat’s-paws. 

One of the crack boats of the New York pilot- 
fleet loomed above the western horizon, carrying 
every stitch of canvas. Her shapely sails gleam- 
ing in the morning sun, she gradually crept up in 
our wake, while another pilot-boat was also visible 
in the eastern board. Circumstances being thus 
against us, we hauled to the wind on the starboard 
tack, and headed south until we had run them 
both out of sight. 

“ Our policy is to scatter,” dryly remarked one * 
of our pilots, a tall, slender Scotchman, of large 
intelligence and an inexhaustible stock of dry 
humor. 

A standing reward of two dollars for the discov- 
ery of a steamer was now offered to the crew, whose 
vigilance was thus greatly stimulated, although it 
would have been impossible to sharpen their sense 
; of sight. 


It 


“ Sail ho ! ” rang from the mast-head at noon, 
proved to be a sailing-ship far to the southward, 


202 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


The wind was so light we could not hope to reach 
her except by sending out a yawl. But the uncer- 
tain nature of the season made this inexpedient. 
This hazardous method is, however, quite fre- 
quently followed by our pilots in calm weather. Its 
nature is well-indicated by the following adven- 
ture, which befell one of the pilots of the Caprice 
some years ago : 

It was on a summer day. A dead calm prevailed. 
They were forty miles south of Long Island. A 
bark lay eight miles away motionless. The pilot- 
schooner was also unable to move. But it would 
not do to allow the prize to escape, as she might 
do if a breeze should strike her sails first. It 
was decided to row in the yawl to thS bark. 
Eight miles, as every one knows, is quite a distance 
with oars, or as it is called, with a “ white-ash 
breeze.” But the weather promised to continue fine, 
and the pilot and his two men imprudently started 
off without water, provisions, compass or sail. Grad- 
ually they gained on the chase. But night was 
creeping on ; the cat’s-paws stealing along the 
horizon suggested, too, that they had better hasten 
their strokes or the bark would get away from 
them. By great good fortune, as it seemed to 
them, they finally came almost within hailing dis- 
tance of her. Five minutes more and they would 
have boarded her ! — when the coming wind filled 
her flapping sails, and they had the mortification 
to see her slowly glide away. Their frantic shouts, 
if heard, were unheeded. They found themselves 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


203 


alone on the wide ocean, parched with thirst, and 
weary and hungry. Night was coming on apace. 
A low, wailing wind was moaning from the south, 
and as soon as the sun sank out of sight the sea 
began to rise, and storm-clouds obscured the hazy 
light of the stars. At that juncture their schooner, 
which had been following, came not far from them ; 
but, supposing they had been picked up by the 
bark, did not perceive them, and again their shouts 
were unheard. Then, indeed, they gave themselves 
up for lost. The nearest land was forty miles 
away. As the wind was blowing it would sweep 
them toward it, while the increasing violence of 
the gusts foreboded a sea so wild that they must 
almost? inevitably be swamped and drowned in 
making a landing. Yet their only course was to 
drive before the wind, and trust to luck to extricate 
them from their perilous situation. 

As night wore on, the storm increased ; often the 
little boat shipped water and seemed on the verge of 
destruction. Every moment was bringing them 
nearer to the crisis of their fate. Toward dawn, 
when the night is darkest, they heard the thunder 
of surf on the reefs, and faintly discerned, in 
the gloom, the ghostly pallor of the upward- 
driven foam. Exhausted as they were, they yet 
kept their wits about them to seize any possibility 
of escape that might offer. In one spot there 
seemed to be a break in the ridge of surf. Skill- 
fully guiding the boat toward it, in another instant 
they felt the yawl lifted up on the crest of a vast 


204 A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 

breaker rushing with lightning speed toward 
the land. A deafening roar succeeded, a crash, a 
whirl and a torrent of foam. In a twinkling the 
boat was capsized, and the men were borne far up 
on the beach. One struck a rock and was drowned. 
The others, as the wave receded, ran up the sand. 
When the next wave followed, they dug their 
hands into the beach and held on, lest they should 
be swept away by the under-tow. But for the 
fortunate break in the reef through which they had 
guided the boat, they would all have been lost. 

Two days of perfect weather, each closed with a 
sunset of magical splendor, were followed by a 
change. The glass began to fall ; cloud stream- 
ers arched over the zenith from horizon to horizon. 
A sad wind moaned over the heaving deep, and a 
mist gradually closed us in. Then came fitful 
showers, and, between the flaws, the little schooner 
flapped her slatting sails with foreboding dreariness. 
Another storm was stealing upon us. During the 
day — it was Sunday — we saw a number of. steam- 
ers, bound eastward, which had left New York on 
the previous day. I should add that for two days 
we had been heading westward, and were now not 
far from the Nantucket light-ship. An inbound 
steamer was also seen from the mast-head, and we 
flung out all the kites and let our little schooner fly 
at her wildest rate. Here seemed a fair chance at 
last, for we were apparently south of the pilot- 
boats we had previously seen, while the whole 
horizon round revealed not a boat in sight. But,, 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 205; 

after another mad chase, our hopes were blasted in? 
a moment when the steamer hung out her signal to' 
inform us she was provided with a pilot. 

That night there was a snow-ring around the 
moon, and the glass was still slowly falling. On 
the following day we had a very exciting chase 
after a White Star boat. But she, in turn, had 
been already boarded. At four p.m. the wind, 
which had been whiffling about in a dubious man- 
ner to all points of the compass, settled into a 
strong, steady breeze from the east, and by night- 
fall it blew half a gale. 

“ Call all hands to reef ! ” rang through the ship, 
and soon the crew were ranged along the booms, 
shortening sail. A wild night was before us. For 
awhile we hove to, in order to be in the track of 
steamers, reasoning that as the wind was likely to 
hold awhile it would prevent other pilot boats from 
getting far east of New York and thus we should 
have a fair chance of not being interrupted in our 
chances by interlopers. But, as the gale freshened, 
it seemed unlikely that we should board any vessel 
in the weather now threatening, and the helm was 
put up and we stood west again. We had now 
been out twelve days. 

At sunset the sky was completely obscured by a 
dense canopy of cloud. Just as the sun rested on 
the ocean’s verge, the clouds lifted enough to allow 
the sun to burst forth and illumine the horizon 
with a line of vivid fire, below which the ocean 
rolled intensely sullen and livid. But who can 


206 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


describe the awful magnificence which irradiated 
the entire heavens with a volcanic glow ! The sky 
was like the dome of a vast oven heated to the last 
degree. At the same moment a shower fell on the 
sea, and immediately two perfect rainbows spanned 
the firmament. Then, as if a curtain had been 
drawn across the scene, night closed in, and the 
wild winds howled over a little ship tossing alone 
on a dreary waste of waves. 

It blew very hard that night. A dangerous cross- 
sea set in, and twice the Caprice was nearly thrown 
on her beam-ends with terrific lurches. We kept 
a bright light at the mast-head and a double look- 
out, for it was an uncanny time for a collision, and 
we were directly in the track of ships. 

On the following day it moderated, but the wind, 
which had only “ backed in,” shifted from north to 
east after dark. This brought a corresponding 
change of weather. Rain and fog set in, and a 
very puffy breeze that settled into a gale before 
morning. We ran westward all night under short 
sail, taking casts of the lead at intervals. Soon 
after ten, the atmosphere being thick, but not so 
much so as to prevent us from discerning objects 
some little distance, we discovered a sailing ship 
ahead, evidently running for New York, and proba- 
bly in need of a pilot. Edging away toward her, 
we lit our torch, and had the satisfaction of seeing 
her send up a couple of rockets in response. At 
the same time she backed her reefed main-topsail 
and hove to. Running down on her lee side, we 


A CRUISE IN' A PILOT-BOAT. 207 

also hove to very near to her, and proceeded to 
launch the yawl. It was a wild scene as the little 
boat vanished into the darkness, perhaps never to 
be seen again. But her crew carried a lantern with 
them, and after they had left the pilot on board the 
ship, we were able to shape our movements by this 
little glimmer bobbing up and down like an ignis 
fatuus in the misty dark. 

As the night wore on, the fog grew so dense 
that we brought up our six-pound brass piece 
from the fore peak, and fired it at short intervals ; 
this was done, not, as one might suppose, to keep 
vessels from coming into collision with the 
schooner, but to inform them there was a pilot- 
boat in the vicinity. But this very fact required 
redoubled vigilance on our part, in order that 
we might not be run down. In the middle watch 
we were startled, just after firing the cannon, 
by the answering whistle of a steamer hoarsely 
coming down the wind, and close at hand. The 
excitement of the moment was intense. Again we 
fired the cannon. The whistle drew nearer, and all 
at once the colored lights of a steamer loomed out 
of the dripping mist, and her huge bow emerged 
from the gloom, so near that it actually seemed to 
overhang our deck. Passing close alongside, she 
slowed up the palpitation of her mighty engine a 
moment to make sure of our position, and then 
vaguely glided out of sight. 

On the following morning the sun was invisible. 
The war of the elements was raging with increasing 


2o8 


A CRUISE IN A PILOT-BOAT. 


fury. The wind had shifted to south-east. The 
fog was less dense, and we could see some distance. 
We were running under a bit of foresail, and hardly 
needed that. It seemed at times, as if the follow- 
ing seas would founder the schooner as they tow- 
ered over the low taffrail. Not a sail was in sight, 
not even a solitary gull ; it is a curious fact that, 
excepting the petrels, sea-birds keep near to the 
land in bad weather. By means of the patent log 
towering astern and from casts of the lead, we knew 
we could not be far from Sandy Hook light-ship. 

About ten, the light-ship hove in sight. We 
rushed by it at the rate of thirteen knots. A 
very high sea was rolling over the bar, but the 
depth of water was enough for vessels like the 
Caprice , and by skillful steering she passed over 
handsomely. The fierceness of the wind was now 
terrific, and, dowsing the foresail, we ran up the 
Lower Bay and flew through the Narrows under 
bare poles. Thus ended a most delightful and 
entertaining cruise. 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 




THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


FOUNDED ON FACT. 

A T a fort in Florida, during the Seminole war, a 
man named Richard Blount lay wounded and 
dying. A keen observer might have discerned in 
the emaciated features, well-covered by an iron- 
gray, untrimmed beard, traces of refinement — 
almost effaced, it is true, by the unmistakable 
marks of a turbulent, and perhaps criminal, career. 

The surgeon in charge of the stockade seemed a 
man of warm heart and tender sympathies, which 
had not been blunted by familiarity with suffering. 
He carefully tended the dying soldier, doing all in 
his power, by words and actions, to soothe his last 
hours. This kindness was not without results. 
Impressed by attentions to which he had long been 
unaccustomed, Richard Blount — taciturn and 
reserved by habit, if not by nature — grew more 
communicative and, at the last, made certain reve- 
lations concerning transactions of which no other 
living man had any knowledge. 

One afternoon, as the sun was setting red and 


212 


Tllti HfDDEN TREASURE. 


broad in a burning haze behind the motionless pal- 
mettos, and the mocking-bird was pouring forth his ; 
wealth of music by the still bayous where the alli- 
gator basked unmolested, Richard, who was feeling 
stronger than usual, after a period of silence and 
mental struggle with himself, said : 

“ Doctor, you've been mighty good to me. You 
are the first person who has spoken a kind word to 
me for many years. I’ve led a hard life of it, and 
very likely don’t deserve any better than I’ve 
received, yet I can’t forget that I was once a better 
man and used to kind words from those who loved 
me. And now, although I am both poor and for- 
saken, yet believe me when I say that it is in my 
power to make you as wealthy as your wildest 
fancies could desire. I was born in England ; I 
have not a single relation now living, and to you it 
can be of no consequence what were the circum- 
stances of my early life. It is enough to say that I 
was the youngest son of a good family, and was 
destined to the church, for which I was totally un- 
fitted. I was sent to Oxford, but an insatiable 
thirst for adventure caused me to run away. 

After various fortunes in many parts of the world, 
in which the cards were generally against me, it was 
at last my luck to- find myself shipped with the crew 
of a pirate schooner, and a motley crew we were — 
Spaniards, Frenchmen, Italians, Yankees, Greeks 
— men of all races. Two or three years I sailed in 
her, boarding and burning vessels in the Spanish 
main. At length a rumor reached the nest of 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE . 213 

• 

pirates to which I belonged that the English Gov- 
ernment was about to take vigorous measures to 
capture our vessels and destroy our rendezvous. 
As we had for a long time been very successful, 
without any serious molestation, there was all the 
more reason to believe the report. A council of 
war was called, in which words ran high. But it 
was decided that, as our rendezvous was well-known 
and would most likely be attacked first and we 
should be unable to defend ourselves successfully 
against such forces as could be sent against us, 
we ought at once to remove our possessions and 
conceal them for awhile in some unknown hid- 
ing-place. With us to decide was to act, and with- 
out further delay the treasure, which was prodigious, 
being the accumulated spoil of many hard fights 
and scuttled ships, was stowed in the holds of our 
vessels. (A little water, surgeon, if you’ll be so 
good.) 

“ So immense,” continued Richard, after a 
moment, “ was the stock of jewelry, dollars and 
doubloons that no other ballast was needed for 
the schooners. When every thing was on board we 
set fire to the cabins on shore, and by the glare of 
the burning houses dropped down the lagoon and 
made an offing. We headed for the coast of 
Florida, and, the moon being at the full, shoved 
the schooners into an inlet, whose whereabouts was 
known to one of our captains, a native of Florida, 
born at Key West, son of a wrecker, I think. It 
was a very quiet part of the country, without so 


214 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


many people as there are about it now ; and they 
aren’t over-thick even now. We had sent some 
men ashore in a boat in the morning to find the 
exact entrance, and after dark they lit a fire on the 
beach ; so we knew just where to put the schooners. 
At daylight we sailed a long way up the bayou, 
winding about from bend to bend, with sweeps or 
tacking along the shore, and blazing the trees as 
we went along, until we came to a clearing in the 
woods, where the trees seemed to have been felled 
by a hurricane. It was gloomy and silent enough 
— a solitude which we disturbed perhaps for the 
first time. Here we made the vessels fast to the 
trees, and all hands went ashore. We made tents 
of old sails, and in a few hours, to see the smoke 
streaming up among the trees, and see the boys 
climbing after birds’ nests, or flinging sticks at the 
alligators, you would have thought it was an old 
settlement.” 

After a brief interval of rest, Richard went on : 
“ When the provisions and every thing else had 
been taken out of the schooners, we hove out the 
ballast (you remember, it was dollars), and carried 
it into the middle of the clearing. Each man put 
his share into an earthen pot ; his name, written on 
a bit of parchment, was placed inside, his ini- 
tials were scratched on the outside, and it was 
then sealed up carefully. The pots of gold and 
silver were then buried in a circle in holes dug 
tolerably deep in the ground, and every man planted 
a small tree over his treasure. Our common stock 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


215 


of treasures we next sealed up in a large jar, and 
buried this in the centre of the circle, planting a 
good-sized tree over this also. 

“After we had secured our wealth, as consid- 
erable time had been lost in doing all this, it was 
decided that the schooners should go off on another 
expedition at once, and they put to sea, leaving a 
few men under my charge to look after the camp, 
the treasure, and the women and children. 
Several weeks went by, and no news came 
from the absent schooners. Our stock of pro- 
visions began to run low, and it was impossi- 
ble to get any thing in that desolate maze of a 
morass, overgrown with tangled forests and cut up 
by muddy streams and bayous, especially as we 
had planted nothing in the clearing, and had not 
cleared any more of the land, as we expected that 
of course the schooners would soon return with a 
fresh stock. We had always been so lucky that not 
a soul of us dreamed of any trouble. Anyhow, the 
schooners never came back, nor did I ever after- 
ward get any clue to their fate. They were proba- 
bly captured and burned, or more likely foundered 
in a hurricane. 

“ The rainy season was coming on, and before 
long several of our number had fallen off with 
starvation and disease. My comrades and I talked 
over the situation, and finally concluded to look 
out for number one, and leave the treasure and 
women and children to take care of themselves. 

“ Well, we had a ship’s boat with us, and one 


2I(J 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


day, after putting a few mouldy biscuit in our 
pockets, we took to the boat and quietly stole 
away, following the bayou until we came to 
the sea. Then we skirted the coast until we 
reached a settlement, and after that separated 
in different directions, for there was no tie of 
friendship to bind us, and we each had a sort 
of dread that the others might some way betray 
him. For years after I wandered about the coun- 
try — sometimes on the frontier — until I enlisted in 
the army, not caring much what became of me, but 
half hoping that perhaps I should be sent to Flor- 
ida, as turned out to be the case, to fight these 
Seminoles, and so perhaps catch a chance to look 
up the treasure we had buried in the forest. I 
never had had the ready money, nor, I’m not 
ashamed to say, the courage to go back alone to 
that spot ; but I got this shot in the leg, and here I 
am, and much good that treasure has done me. But 
it don’t seem quite the thing, you see, that all that 
money and treasure should be buried there and be 
of no kind of use to any body, and as you are the 
first and the last person that’s been kind to me these 
many years, I’ll trust to you to see that I have 
decent burial, and will tell you just how to go to 
find the treasure. It’s all truth I’ve been telling 
you, and you needn’t be afraid I’m spinning you a 
forecastle yarn, but just do as I direct you to do, 
and it’ll make you the richest man in the country ; 
and I don’t know who deserves it better.” 

Richard Blount, after this, gave the surgeon very 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE . 


217 


minute directions as to how to go in quest of the 
treasure. On the next day the pirate died. As 
soon after this as the surgeon could get leave of 
absence, he made arrangements with a friend to go 
after the supposed mine of wealth concealed in the 
forests of Southern Florida. He could not quite 
believe the story, but the circumstances under 
which it had been disclosed, and the fact that 
money had often been concealed by the freebooters 
of the sea, made it sufficiently probable to warrant 
chartering a small, light-draft schooner and engag- 
ing a crew of blacks able to work the vessel and 
willing to dig in the mud after gold. It was only 
by a very close and tedious observation of the coast 
that the mouth of the bayou was found. On enter- 
ing it from the sea, the line of trees which had been 
blazed was also discovered with some difficulty and 
traced from bend to bend in the dusky light of the 
primeval forest. 

Guided by this clue, often but faintly distin- 
guishable, the treasure-seekers, after slowly sailing 
along the devious mazes of the silent waters of the 
wilderness until they almost despaired of reaching 
the end in view, at last burst suddenly upon a sort 
of clearing in the dense mass of vegetation, over- 
grown with trees of younger growth, arising from 
which a circle of larger trees could be distinctly 
traced, with a central shaft lifting its feathery tuft 
of foliage far up into the blue sky. Human skele- 
tons, tent stakes and other relics of extinct life were 
also visible amid the rank grass which overgrew the 


2l8 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


soil. Every thing, thus far, had proved exactly as 
described by Richard Blount, and it was reason- 
able to suppose that, as the story had been found to 
tally in the minutest details with facts, it would con- 
tinue consistent throughout. It was, therefore, 
with renewed zest and with the burning impatience 
which tortures the soul when one is confident of 
the result and sees the desired object almost in his 
grasp, that the doctor seized a pick-axe, and order- 
ing his men to follow suit, broke ground in the last 
stage of the quest after a treasure which his fevered 
fancy pictured as more and more colossal as the 
rapturous moment approached when it would be 
opened to view. Such was his impatience that he 
was the first to make a discovery. The point of 
the pick, after turning up the soft soil almost noise- 
lessly for some anxious minutes, at last struck 
something hard with a most decided click. The 
next stroke the sound was repeated, and at the 
same time a bit of red pottery was thrown up. The 
doctor, perspiring with excitement, flung aside the 
pick-axe and, falling on his knees, began to draw 
out the earth with his hands, while every one stopped 
his work and looked on with breathless expectation. 
It took but a moment to bring to light an earthen 
jar, but on trying to raise it they found it was 
cracked in several pieces, and that the bottom had 
fallen out. What was more important, the jar was 
empty ! Here was a disappointment, to be sure ; 
but they would not yet give up heart ; there were 
still many jars, and perhaps this one was only a 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


219 


“ blind.” But jar after jar was turned up and all 
were found more or less broken, and not a dollar 
did one of them contain. Last of all, the searchers 
cut down the central tree and unearthed the large 
jar over which it stood. This also, crowning disap- 
pointment of all, was in the same condition and 
contained only earth-worms. Baffled, but not quite 
disheartened, the treasure-seekers, as a last resort, 
dug several feet below where the central jar had 
been. They did not find the treasure they sought, 
but they ascertained where it had gone. 

They came to water, and thus discovered the 
solution of the mystery, and what had robbed them 
of the gold. They stood on a mere alluvial crust 
of oozy soil, under which the water percolated at 
some depth below. The moisture of the earth had 
softened the jars, and the weight of the treasure 
had carried away the bottoms and caused it grad- 
ually to sink lower and lower, as in a quicksand, 
until it had dropped into the water and, of course, 
out of sight. 

There was nothing more to be done but to aban- 
don further operations for the time, as such a result 
had not been foreseen and the means for raising the 
money were not at hand. But the following year 
the doctor returned to the bayou with a pumping 
machine and ample apparatus for his purpose, and 
after much labor was partially rewarded for his 
trouble. 

Doubloons and guineas, vases and caskets of 
precious metals elaborately chased, the handiwork 


220 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


of skilled artisans of various races and ages, and 
gems of price, which had long lain concealed in the 
slime of the forest, again flashed in the sunbeams. 
But all the lost treasure was not regained ; some of 
it eluded the closest scrutiny of avarice or enter- 
prise, and still lies buried forever under the waters 
and the sod of Florida. 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 





















OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 



APTAIN ABIJAH BAKER had been to sea 


Vj ever since his fourteenth year. He was born 
on the Cape ; there he found his wife ; there his 
children were born ; there stood the house he had 
built, to which he always returned for a few days 
at the end of each voyage ; and thither he had 
come at last after forty years of wandering on the 
ocean to pass the remainder of his days, on a mod- 
erate but snug competence wrenched from the mad 
sea-waves, until he should once more launch his 
bark on the voyage from which no traveler returns. 
His boy had also taken early to the water, and was 
now skipper of the fishing schooner Gentle Annie. 
He was engaged to Lucy May, the lady who taught 
the district school, and after one or two more suc- 
cessful trips to the banks the wedding was to 
come off. 

Captain Baker was a noble specimen of the 
mariners they used to turn out on Cape Cod. 
Nearly six feet tall, broad-chested and broad- 
shouldered, he still walked erect as in his youth ; 
and the keen, honest, fearless look of his blue eyes 
from under their roofing of shaggy gray eyebrows 


224 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


was as undimmed as when he first trod the quarter- 
deck. But if sometimes their glance was stern and 
uncompromising, there lurked in them also unfath- 
omed possibilities of good-natured mirth, and not 
rarely an expression which, showed that under a 
bluff exterior he carried a warm, true heart. 

Mrs. Baker still survived, after twenty-six years 
of wedded life, to have her “ old man ” with her, 
and with him to share the remaining years of life. 
When they were first married she made several 
voyages with her husband, but the invariable sea- 
sickness which persecuted her on shipboard, and 
the growing demands of her children, obliged her 
to remain at home to worry for him on stormy 
nights, and realize the truth of the French proverb, 
“ Femme de marin, femme de chagrin.” 

Her daughter Mary, now a girl of twenty, had 
tended to assuage her solitude while husband and 
son were battling with winds and waves thousands 
of miles away. Mrs. Baker was one of those 
women of tact and character who, while not at all 
lacking in independence and spirit, had the pene- 
tration to perceive that in the family as on the 
quarter-deck, there can be only one captain, even 
when the mate knows more than the captain about 
navigation, and that even for her own comfort 
merely, and to retain her influence over him, it 
was better to yield to and co-operate in the life- 
plans of her husband than to thwart them by 
direct opposition. A thoroughly practical New 
England woman, generally undemonstrative but 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


225 


faithful in her affections, portly and warm-hearted, 
Mrs. Baker accepted with serene content the pros- 
pect of having Abijah with her as never before 
during all their married years, with their son and 
daughter-in-law settled near them, and possibly 
divers grandchildren toddling in the spring sun- 
shine before the grandparental door. 

But fate seemed to have otherwise determined, or 
at least awhile longer deferred good Mrs. Baker's 
entrance into possession of these castles in Spain. 
It is a hard thing for a man still in active posses- 
sion of his powers suddenly to abdicate the throne 
and retire into peaceful inaction. When he is 
oppressed by the storms of life he looks longingly 
forward to a tranquil rest under his own vine and 
fig-tree. But the strongest muscles condemned to 
inaction become flabby and weak, the keenest 
blade hanging unused on a wall is eaten with rust, 
and the brain, ceasing its wonted habits of action, 
softens and decays, and senility comes on apace. 
Many men, instinctively conscious of this tendency 
after they have tried rest for a time, chafe once 
more for a field whereon to exercise their powers, 
and spring back to the arena to begin life anew, 
but so heavily handicapped by age or the more 
recent habits of lethargy, that they learn when it is 
too late the mistake they made in so soon quitting 
their life-pursuits. 

It was not long before Captain Baker began to 
realize the truth of these observations. To spend 
the remainder of his days hoeing potato hills and 


226 


OUT OF THE DEP 7'HS. 


turning his melons and squashes to the sun on the 
sere soil of the cape, or oscillating between his 
house and the village store, with an occasional trip 
to Boston, was rather too placid and monotonous a 
change for a man who had listened all his days to 
the creaking of tackle-blocks and the thunderous, 
frantic flapping of topsails in Atlantic squalls — a 
man, too, in whose veins still leaped a manly vigor, 
in whose heart still throbbed an honest ambition. 
The growing uneasiness of her husband, the rest- 
lessness and annoyed discontent so unusual in his 
frank and generous nature, were not un perceived 
by Mrs. Baker ; she foresaw the inevitable result, 
but kept her own counsels. But when he returned 
one day from Boston with a sober yet brisk and 
determined air, she was prepared to hear him say : 
“ Well mother,” — he always called her mother — “ I 
don’t s’pose you'll like it very well, and it comes 
kind of hard for me to tell ye, but I’m going on a 
v’y’ge to Smyrna ; I sail next week.” 

“ I mistrusted somethin’ of the sort when you 
went to Boston ; I knew ’twan’t for nothin’ you 
were going up there so often. But what on airth 
possesses ye to go to sea again, Abijah ? Here 
you are, every thing just as coozy as can be, and I 
ain’t seen much of ye since we stood up afore the 
minister twenty-seven years ago come next Octo- 
ber ; and here’s Johnnie going to be married maybe 
next Thanksgiving.” 

t( Well, you see it’s just here : I hate to go and 
leave ye, but then what’s a man to do here if he 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


227 


hain’t got no trade ashore to keep him busy ? And 
I feel just as spry as when I first took command of 
the Wild Rover. I don’t mean to go to sea again 
for good, but let me go just one more v'y’ge, and 
I’ll get over this hankering for it. Anyway, I 
didn’t really mean to go again, but when I went 
into Clark & Allen’s office t’other day they said to 
me : ‘ Captain, you are just the man for us. Cap- 
tain Tressle has just fallen and broken a leg and 
two ribs ; 'tain’t no kind of use for him to try to go 
this v’y’ge, and the Jennie Lane will be ready to go 
to sea next week. You are part owner, and now 
you’ve had a long vacation on shore, here’s a good 
chance for you to get on your sea-legs again.' It 
did seem kind o’ providential like, and, after turn- 
ing the matter over, I told them that I would 
go." 

“ I am afraid you are making a mistake, Abijah. 
I won’t say nothin’ for myself,” and the poor 
woman put the corner of her apron to her eye — it 
was only a momentary weakness — “ but I mistrust 
things won’t go all right.” 

“ So you’ve said before when I’ve been a-goin’ to 
sail, but nothin’ ever came of it. So, cheer up, 
mother ; and if you’ve got a cup of that last tea I 
brought, ’twon’t come amiss." 

“ The Lord knows ! We don’t always know our 
own minds, or what’s good for us. But if you 
must go, Abijah — and now you’ve given your word, 
it can’t be helped — I must look over your things, 
and if there’s any thing you need, I’ll send for 


22 & 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


Mehitabel Whelden to come right over and help 
me do the sewing." 

The captain, relieved that he had got over the 
difficulty of breaking unpleasant news to his wife 
so easily, and that she took it so kindly, had to 
give her a kiss, while she, between smiles and 
tears, said : “Oh, yes ; that’s just the way ; you are 
always ready enough with your kisses if I’ll only 
let you have your own way," but she was proud 
enough of her old sea-captain for all that. 

And so the matter was settled. In a fortnight 
Captain Baker was once more crossing the Atlantic, 
the topsails of the Jennie Lane swelling with the 
exuberant force of a westerly gale which rapidly 
bore him away from his quiet home and disconso- 
late wife. In ten days they sighted Fayal, and, 
after a splendid run of thirty-six days, the Jennit 
La?ie had passed from the New World into the 
Old World, from the nineteenth century into the 
past ages, from the trinitarian orthodoxy of the bell 
of Park Street Church to the theistic chant of the 
muezzin of Islam, and unloaded the rum of Med- 
ford and the missionaries of Pemberton Square 
upon the wharves of Smyrna. 

In another month she was ready to turn her 
bowsprit again toward Long Wharf and the land 
of the setting sun. Her hold was packed with 
bales of wool and rags. The hatches were bat- 
tened down, the topsails were hoisted and sheeted 
home and a back to the mast ; the crew, with a long 
song, had got the anchor a-trip ; the passengers, a 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 229 

missionary with his wife and four children, were 
busy arranging their quarters in the small cabin ; 
the Greek pilot was on board ; and the setting sun 
was tinging the mountain crags of Anatolia with 
roseate hues, and gilding the red roofs, crescent- 
tipped minarets, and crumbling Roman ramparts of 
Smyrna, when Captain Baker and the consignee 
came off to the ship, having paid their last visit to 
the consul and the health officers of the port. 

“ Mr. Partridge, you can make sail on her and 
cast off ; let me know when all is ready,” said 
the captain to the mate as he went below for the 
last consultation with the consignee. As the 
breeze was light, the top-gallant sails and royals 
were sheeted home, and when she was adrift Mr. 
Partridge called the captain. 

When the bark fell off gracefully on the star- 
board tack, the two brass pieces were fired ; Cap- 
tain Baker was a strict disciplinarian ; he kept his 
vessel trim as a yacht, and in entering or leaving 
port aimed at a man-of-war style as far as possible 
in a merchant ship. 

“ Good-by, Captain Baker,” said the consignee, as 
he stepped into his boat ; “ a pleasant and quick 
voyage to you ! When shall we look for you 
again ? ” 

“ Oh, this is my last v’y'ge ! I ain’t goin' to sea 
; any more ; I promised Mrs. Baker to stay at home 
f after this v’y’ge.” 

“ So you said the last time you were here. We’ll 
see you back’ again before long.” 


230 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 

“ No, I say good-by to Smyrna now, for good 
and all. But I expect to see you in Boston some 
time.” 

Every thing looked propitious for a prosperous 
voyage home ; but, being the summer season, the 
occasional gales and squalls they encountered were 
alternated by light, baffling winds and long calms, 
always more or less irritating to the ruling mind 
which paces the quarter-deck, but affording a good 
opportunity for scraping and slushing the masts, 
setting up and tarring the rigging, and painting the 
ship from truck to water-line. In this way the Je?inie 
Lane was made to look as if she were intended to be 
put under a glass case, while Captain Baker talked 
theology with the missionary, and kept an eye on 
the barometer or the offing for a breeze. On the 
4th of July the bark was suddenly surrounded by 
field-ice and bergs of enormous size ; the air from 
almost tropical heat, became wintry cold, and the 
gleam of the sun and the moon on the glittering 
masses, while it displayed their splendor, also 
revealed the extent of the perils by which they 
were surrounded. Most fortunately, the weather 
continued clear, and having a leading wind, they 
escaped the ice unharmed. 

And now, ho for the Grand Banks and for 
home ! Captain Baker had been impatient all 
the voyage to reach the Banks, hoping to see 
his son there ; the Gentle Annie was generally 
on fishing-grounds about that time, and the cap- 
tain was especially anxious for clear weather, so 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS . . 231 

that he might not only see his boy’s schooner, 
but might also thus avoid the danger of running 
her down in a fog, a peril of the Banks which 
neither fog-horns nor whistles nor the utmost 
vigilance can altogether dispel. It was a great 
relief, therefore, when on a fine, clear morning, 
with a good offing, Captain Baker saw a fleet of 
fishermen at anchor ahead or dodging about 
after fish. With eagerness he scanned them 
all, recognizing one and another in turn ; but it 
was with ill-concealed disappointment that he 
failed to see the Gentle Annie anywhere in sight. 
Hailing one of the schooners which was from the 
cape, he inquired for her whereabout, and was 
informed that she had started for home some days 
previous, having got a full fare of fish. 

“Well,” said Captain Baker, “I'm right glad to 
hear John’s got a full fare so early in the season ; 
he’ll be coming out again afore long, and, if he 
gets another good catch, then there’ll be a wed- 
ding, and you can count me in as one of those 
present. I don’t know any body who deserves a 
good wife more than our John, and that’s just 
what he’s a-going to have.” 

After the Grand Banks are passed, going to the 
westward, it always seems as if one could almost 
see the ridge-pole of the old homestead and the 
well-sweep rising by it, especially if a driving 
north-easter makes the lads in the forecastle sing, 
“ The girls at home have got hold of the tow-rope,” 
and that was just the wind which now swept the 


232 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS ^ . 


Jennie Lane along like a mad race-horse, scudding 
over the foaming crests on a bee-line for Boston 
Light. Captain Baker always carried sail hard, 
and he could do this safely because he nevef lost 
his head, and could take in canvas in a squall with 
perfect coolness. The bark now staggered under 
a press of sail rarely seen in such weather except 
on Yankee ships, and when, commanded by 
such men as Captain Abijah Baker. When 
the canvas blew away, all hands were sent 
aloft to bend and set on another sail on the 
yard. 

“ By George ! but if this isn’t glorious ! ” ex- 
claimed the hale old sea-dog. “If Johnnie don’t 
look out, we’ll get into Boston Bay before he 
sights the Highland Light ! ” 

But the nearer they came to the coast the thicker 
the weather became — not exactly a fog, but a 
dripping Scotch mist and rain that effectually shut 
every thing out of sight a ship’s length ahead, 
requiring a constant, careful look-out, with frequent 
blowing of the fog-horn. But they kept driving 
the bark on her course, although she rolled heavily 
in the immense seas heaving under the quarter ; 
and the rattling and crashing of tin pans and 
crockery below, and the faint gleams of lightning 
in the south-west, indicated the growing severity 
of the storm. But Captain Baker, judging from 
the barometer and certain signs significant to the 
experienced eye, inferred that there would be a 
shift in the wind ahead before morning, and was 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS . 


233 


anxious to make all the longitude possible before 
the change. 

It had just struck eight bells. There is some- 
thing peculiarly solemn in the toll of a ship’s bell 
on a dark, stormy night, when the wind is chanting 
a shrill, weird wail in the rigging, and the melan- 
choly swash of the waves seems to shut out the 
lonely vessel and the isolated beings on her deck 
from all the rest of creation. 

“ Mr. Partridge,” said the captain to the mate, 
whose watch it was on' deck — “Mr. Partridge, 
you’ll keep a good look-out, and if there’s any sign 
of a change of weather, give me a call. If the 
wind hasn’t shifted when they change the watch, 
we’ll heave to, as we don’t want to run in too close 
while it continues thick like this.” 

Captain Baker then turned to go below, and had 
just reached the companion-way when the look-out 
on the forecastle deck sang out : 

“Vessel dead ahead, close aboard of us ! ” 

“Port! hard a-port ! ” rang out the thunder- 
tones of Captain Baker’s voice, and like an echo of 
his own voice came back the cry from the unknown 
ship, “ Port ! ” and the bark, suddenly arrested in 
her course, swung to windward, reeling over on her 
side, and her foretopmast snapping off even with 
the cap as she broached to. But it was too late. 
At the same instant she rose on the sea and rushed 
down with a tremendous crash into the vessel 
ahead ; and as she swung back, stunned by the shock, 
and then surged on again, a schooner loomed up 


234 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


out of the gloom, ranged alongside, and went down 
with a last smothered cry of agony rising from her 
deck blending with the howling of the gale. Hen- 
coops, spars, and life-preservers were thrown over 
from the bark, if haply some poor soul might lay 
hold of one ; but, obviously, the first duty was to 
see whether the Jennie Lane had suffered such 
damage as would place her own existence in dan- 
ger. The pumps were sounded, and a slight in- 
crease of water was found, indicating that she had 
started some of her forward timbers ; but, most 
fortunately, the water did not rush in so fast as to 
be an object of immediate concern, proving under 
control of the pumps. But some of her upper works 
had been carried away, including her jib-boom and 
foretopmast and main top-gallant mast, so that she 
seemed to be in quite a forlorn condition. While 
the investigation as to the damage done was going 
on forward, a voice was heard in the fore-chains, 
and it was found that one of the schooner’s crew 
was clinging there, who had managed to get a hold, 
but, spraining his ankle, was unable to climb further. 
He was at once rescued and brought aft in a half- 
drowned condition. 

“ What schooner was that ? ” inquired Captain 
Baker. 

“ She was the Gentle Annie of — ” 

“ What ! the Gentle An?iie , John Baker skipper ? ” 
exclaimed the captain, shaking like a leaf. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ My God ! O my God ! ” groaned the poor cap- 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS . 


235 


tain, leaning against the rail for support in the 
extremity of his emotion. “ Oh my boy ! my poor 
boy ! ” 

When the first paroxysm of sudden grief and 
despair was over, Captain Baker, like all men of 
action of his stamp, nerved himself to his duty, 
and, controlling the outward expression of his feel- 
ings, went about the ship to see that all was made 
snug and secure. To put a boat over in that sea 
and mist, in search of the schooner’s crew, was a 
hopeless task, and would only needlessly risk other 
lives. He therefore gave orders to keep the bark 
as near as possible to the position of the catas- 
trophe until daybreak ; and, having assured him- 
self that his vessel was in no present danger from 
the collision, he went below to pass the saddest 
night of his life. 

A long and earnest search on the following morn- 
ing brought no relief to the hopeless father. The 
wind had shifted and “ scoffed ” the fog away, but 
nothing was to be seen except here and there a dis- 
tant sail. About mid-day a pilot was taken on 
board, and in twenty-four hours, with the aid of a 
tug, the Jennie Lane was alongside of Long Wharf. 

The news of the collision being in the nature of 
bad tidings, and involving the fate of three men at 
Captain Baker’s home — the rest of the lost men 
were from other places — it reached the place with- 
out delay one evening after candle-light. As 
usual, when the mail arrived, there was a knot of 
loafers collected inside of the store, with such more 


236 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


reputable and industrious villagers as expected let- 
ters. The postmaster’s paper was seized by one 
of those most greedy for news, and if any item of 
interest occurred he read it aloud. The audience 
being largely composed of seafaring people, the 
column of ship-news was naturally the first to 
receive attention. On this occasion Jerry Fuller, 
a lank-limbed specimen of the Cape Cod race, had 
the newspaper, and with his slouched hat on the 
back of his head and his feet on the rung of the 
old chair, which was tilted against a barrel of pota- 
toes, was leisurely going over the items, when, with 
a start, he vehemently exclaimed : 

“ My good gracious, if this don’t beat all ! ” 

“ Why, what is it now, Jerry ? ” 

“ Just look a-here — just listen to this, boys ! The 
Gentle Annie's been run down and sunk in a gale of 
wind by the bark Jennie Lane." 

Every one in the store immediately crowded 
around Jerry while he read aloud the account of 
the calamity, which, although briefly and simply 
told, came home to them all with terrible em- 
phasis. 

“ There was the Widow Fisher’s boy and Tommy 
Sloane and Johnnie Baker, all from this place, all 
as likely fellows as ever grasped a mariin-spike, 
and they’ve all gone to ‘ Davy Jones’,” said Bill 
Tucker, heaving a sigh and moistening the fireless 
stove with tobacco-juice. 

“ I’m thinkin’ it’s mighty hard lines for the old 
man,” said Joey Greene. 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 237 

“ A drowning of his own boy ! It’s blamed hard 
luck now, I tell you,” muttered Jerry. 

“ Denied if I don’t think so,” echoed Bill 
Tucker. 

“ Well, it’s the Lord’s doing,” solemnly ejacu- 
lated Mr. Plympton, the minister, who with sallow, 
hatchet face, was standing on the edge of the 
crowd. 

“ Maybe 'tis, maybe ’taint,” growled one who 
never went to meeting, and was reputed to believe 
in neither God nor devil. 

“ Anyway, it’s mighty rough on him, you bet,” 
answered old Captain Si Jones. 

But the minister, realizing the fearful import of 
the fatal tidings when it should reach Mrs. Baker, 
and touched with anxious sympathy, hastened home 
to inform his wife, who immediately put on her 
hood and stepped over to the captain's house to 
break the news to the afflicted wife and mother. 

It is not for us to intrude on that stricken house- 
hold, or to reveal the sorrowful meeting of the 
parents of the lost Johnnie, or the despair of his 
betrothed, Lucy May, to whom it now seemed as if 
the light had gone out of the world. 

But if it was hard for Captain Baker to remain at 
home before this tragedy had overtaken him, it was 
still harder now. Every thing reminded him of his 
lost son, and of the blasted hopes which had cen- 
tred around him. Although ten years seemed to 
have been added to his age, and a slight uncer- 
tainty seemed to some to have altered the firm tread 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


238 

of his massive frame, yet to the outside world he 
preserved a steady, almost cheerful demeanor. But 
the sea drew him again with a strange, irresistible 
influence, with the glamour of a witch. 

“ I can’t live this way, mother ; I must take 
another v’y’ge, even ef I don’t never come back 
here again.” 

Not only did Mrs. Baker not hinder his going, 
but she decided to go with him ; whatever be the 
fate before him, she would share it, and, great as 
was her sorrow, she knew that his was in some sort 
increased by the shadow of self-accusing remorse, 
a self-blame not wholly unnatural for a calamity 
which it was out of his power to prevent. Leaving 
their daughter and Lucy May in their house with a 
maiden aunt who had been invited to make her 
home there during their absence, the faithful pair, 
at an age when most people are laying aside the 
burdens of life, sailed out once more on the rough, 
treacherous ocean which so emphatically symbol- 
izes the troublous life of man. The gossips of the 
cape, with pursed-up lips, and a knowing shake 
of the head acknowledged to a presentiment 
that he would never return, that this was destined 
too truly to be his last voyage, notwithstanding that 
he asserted with a grim smile that he was heading 
for the Cape of Good Hope this time, which was 
true enough; for, as if to renew the days of early 
manhood, Captain Baker now took command of the 
Dhulep Singh for Calcutta, the port to which his 
first voyages were made. 


OUr OF THE DEPTHS. 


2 39 


The voyage out was unattended by any unusual 
incidents. The ship reached the Hooghly in safety, 
and, having discharged her cargo and reloaded, 
started for home. If the outward voyage had often 
seemed monotonously melancholy to the old sailor 
and his wife, oppressed by the weight of their loss 
and the blasting of their hopes, the homeward voy- 
age was more hopeless, for they felt, if they did not 
shape their thoughts in words, that the blank drear- 
iness of their home on their return to it would tend 
to reopen the heart-wounds but partially healed. 

Gradually the Dhulep Singh plowed her way 
across the Indian Ocean toward the Cape of Good 
Hope. She had escaped the violent gales which 
accompany the change of the monsoons, and was 
running before a very fresh but favorable and seem- 
ingly steady breeze on the quarter, and it was 
hoped that she would weather the cape and take 
the south-east trades without meeting any heavy 
gales. But it was otherwise ordained. Having 
taken his afternoon nap, Captain Baker got up and 
took a look at the barometer. The result was so 
unsatisfactory that he rubbed his eyes and gave 
another glance at the mercury, which only confirmed 
his first observation. He went on deck without 
delay. A great change was impending. A terrific 
gloom was overspreading the heavens, reaching up 
from the horizon across the zenith in ragged, livid 
streaks, like the arms of demons stretching out to 
clutch their victims. The sea under this pall rolled 
black and ominous, boding no good, while ever and 


240 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS . 


anon the dark curtain of mist which was rapidly ap- 
proaching from the south-west was rent by appalling 
flashes of lightning, now white bolts riving the skies 
in twain, now in vivid sheets which circled the 
whole offing and rimmed the sea with a ring of fire. 
The distant but ceaseless roll of thunder, every 
moment growing louder, was of a character to im- 
press the stoutest heart with awe and apprehen- 
sion. 

The officer of the deck had already begun to 
take precautions to meet the storm, and most of 
the watch were aloft furling the light sails ; but 
Captain Baker, who was better acquainted with the 
weather of those seas than the mate, saw that not a 
moment was to be lost while the ship still had 
whole topsails and courses set. 

“ Come down from there l ” he roared to the men 
aloft ; “ don’t wait to furl the top-gallant sails ! ” 
then, turning to the mate, he bade him call the 
watch below. The words were scarcely out of his 
mouth when the ship was taken aback by a fierce 
squall right in her teeth. The tremendous pres- 
sure on the topsails made it useless to let go the 
halyards or start the sheets, and, driven stern fore- 
most, the ship began to bury her taffrail under the 
combers ; the water boiled over like a sluice, rush- 
ing forward into the cabin and the waist ; she was 
apparently entirely beyond human control, and in 
another minute would have gone down, as light- 
ning, thunder, darkness, wind and rain burst 
with a sublime, confused and irresistible fury 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


241 


over the devoted ship. But at that supreme 
moment the crew, by almost superhuman efforts, 
succeeded in lowering the spanker and bracing the 
foreyard. The noble ship, writhing and wrestling 
for life, fell off in the trough of the sea, lying over 
almost on her beam-ends, while the sails were 
blown out of the bolt-ropes and flew off to lee- 
ward like scraps of vapor. For the time she was 
saved, but how long could she live in that position 
was the question, especially if the storm settled 
down into a continuous hurricane. By skillful 
management they finally got the ship paying off 
before the wind, scudding with a rag of canvas in 
the fore-rigging. By the next morning the Dhulep 
Singh had run out of the vortex of the cyclone, 
and they were able to heave to, although a sea 
absolutely mountainous rolled up from the south 
pole in a manner that sometimes threatened to 
ingulf the ship. 

The sun set that day in a clear offing, festooned 
with the pageantry of crimson and golden clouds, 
and the wind having shifted and greatly moder- 
ated, they were able to make sail. Two days after 
the Cape of Good Hope was sighted, like a gray 
cloud against the pale green of the horizon sky. 
The weather was fine, the ship jogging along under 
royals, and the crew engaged in repairing such 
damages as had occurred to the rigging during the 
late storm. Two of them squatted on the deck in 
the gangway, were mending a topsail ; Mrs. Baker 
was seated by the companion-way sewing and chat- 


242 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 

ting with the captain, who, spy-glass in hand, 
scanned the offing from time to time. Neptune, 
their noble Newfoundland dog, was standing on 
the taffrail snuffing the land, and gazing at the sea 
with an expression truly human. It sometimes does 
seem as if, with their other gifts, some dogs may be 
permitted to claim a certain dim, far-off sense of 
the poetic feeling. It was, in a word, one of those 
average days between the repose of a calm and 
the excitement of a storm, such as come in the life 
of a ship as in the life of man. 

“ To-day is our John’s birthday. Had you 
thought of it, Abijah ? He would have been 
twenty-eight years old,” said Mrs. Baker. 

“Yes, mother, it was the first thing I thought of 
when I woke up.” 

“ Well, one thing is sure — he’s where he’ll have 
no more hurricanes to fight.” Although she had 
been heroically calm throughout the late storm, it 
had naturally made a lasting impression upon her, 
and, being the least bit superstitious, like most peo- 
ple, or call it belief in Providence if you prefer, she 
sincerely believed that it was for some purpose she 
had been “ spared,” when others were overwhelmed 
by the winds and waves, never more to see their 
homes. 

“ I suppose that’s so ; we don’t know much about 
it ; still, I’d be glad to see him back again, and I 
don’t believe but what, to please his old parents and 
his poor girl mourning for him on the cape, he’d 
be willing to come back for a while.” 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


243 


“ You know the Bible says, ‘ He shall come back 
no more to me, but I shall go to him,' ” repeated the 
good lady, in a low tone. 

“ I wish I had your faith, mother, not because 
believing a thing makes a thing any more tru6, but 
then one feels better and takes life easier." 

Thus the pair gossiped to themselves in the com- 
monplaces characteristic of those whose life-work is 
action rather than speech. After awhile one of the 
men aloft reported a sail in sight. 

“ Where away ? " 

“ On the lee beam ; looks like a wreck, sir." 

Every body immediately sprang to his feet and 
scanned the offing, but as the strange sail was not 
visible from the deck, Captain Baker went aloft 
with his glass, and discovered it to be a ship 
apparently in a sinking condition, her fore and 
main-masts gone by the board, and a flag of dis- 
tress in the mizzen-rigging ; she had evidently 
been dismantled by the late hurricane. 

“ Square the main-yard ! ” was the order that 
now rang through the ship, and she was then kept 
away for the wreck, which very soon became visible 
from the deck. As they drew nearer they could 
see that she was settling fast, and that the crew 
(her boats having been carried away) were rapidly 
constructing a raft alongside. The Dhulcp Singh 
was hove-to a short distance from the wreck, which 
proved to be the Rothsay , tea-clipper of London, 
and a boat was lowered and sent off to her. The 
Rothsay was almost down to her scuppers, wallow- 


244 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


ing helplessly in the sea, and her end was fast 
approaching. Help had come to her crew just as 
she was about to go out from under them and leave 
them adrift on the waste of ocean ; nor was it safe 
for the boat to linger alongside, lest it should be 
sucked down by the whirling vortex caused by the 
death-throes of the foundering ship, liable to occur 
at any moment. A number of the Rothsay's crew 
had been washed off by the hurricane, and one 
who had been maimed by falling spars, was already 
lying on the raft, and was gently transferred to the 
boat, which then shoved off. When it was midway 
between the two ships the Rothsay, lurching con- 
vulsively, buried her bow in a sea, and the waves 
closed over her as she went down, locked in their 
embrace till the sea give up her dead. There is no 
more solemn or impressive sight in this world 
than the sinking of a ship at sea. When a man 
dies, the body continues for awhile to give the sem- 
blance of reality, and only by degrees wastes away 
into nothingness. When a house burns down, it is 
only gradually, and the ashes remain. When an 
earthquake fells a city, the fragments are still 
there. But when one moment we see the strong 
and mighty fabric of a ship actually before us, and 
the next can discern absolutely not a vestige or sign 
or semblance or shadow of it existing, we come 
very near to forming a conception of what annihila- 
tion is, if there be any such thing. 

The Rothsay having disappeared, the attention of 
all on board the Dhulep Singh was directed to the 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


245 


returning boat, and the haggard faces of those who 
had been so opportunely rescued from a watery 
grave were eagerly scanned. But when it arrived 
alongside, and the features of the wounded man 
became distinctly visible, Mrs. Baker, shuddering 
as if with cold, pale as death, and with tongue 
almost paralyzed with overpowering emotion, 
clutched her husband’s arm : “Abijah, don’t he look 
like our Johnnie ?” 

“ Elizabeth, what — you don’t mean to say — My 
God, it can’t be ! — and yet — if only the dead could 
come to life, I should say it was our John ! ” 

Thus gasping and staggering, rather than walk- 
ing, Captain Baker took two or three steps forward, 
and gazed earnestly into the eyes of the maimed 
seaman, who at the instant looked up. As he 
caught the gaze of the captain, a change came over 
his sunken features ; reaching forward his arms 
and exclaiming, “ Father ! ” he fell back apparently 
dead ; it was this circumstance which aided to pre- 
vent the parents from yielding to the emotions 
caused by the violence of the shock received from 
this most extraordinary event. Descending into 
the boat, the captain found that his son was only 
in a state of syncope, resulting from excitement 
and physical exhaustion. With the greatest ten- 
derness and sympathy, in which every one of the 
crew joined — and it may be said to their credit that 
more than one of them drew his rough fist across 
his eyes — John Baker was hoisted out of the boat 
and carried into the cabin, where the usual reme- 


24 6 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


dies applied in such cases soon restored him to 
consciousness. 

John Baker’s story is soon told ; hair-breadth as 
was his escape, it is at any rate no more remark- 
able than the adventures which are encountered by 
most seafaring men some time in the course of their 
adventurous lives. On the night of the collision 
he was on deck ; the schooner was lying-to, and, as 
she was directly in the track of inward-bound 
vessels, anxiety was felt, and a sharp lookout main- 
tained. He discovered the bark at the same instant 
that the schooner was perceived. Conscious at a 
glance that a collision was unavoidable, he at once 
took thought for his personal safety. As is common 
on our fishing schooners, there was a nest of dories 
amidships. He made a dive at this and lifted the 
upper one out of its bed just as the two vessels 
came together, and held fast to it by the painter. 
By great good luck it floated when the schooner 
went down, and he contrived to get into it. It 
glided over the seas before the wind, its very light- 
ness giving it buoyancy, and helping to keep it 
clear of the combers. But it was only by the 
greatest management — may not one also add, by 
the aid of Providence ! — that dory and crew of one 
man lived till morning. He was then sighted by a 
ship outward bound ; she altered her course, and 
flung a rope to him as she swept by ; he caught it 
and was saved. The vessel was bound to China, 
and the captain was loath to put back to land him. 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


247 


but promised to transfer him to .some homeward- 
bound vessel if convenient. No such opportunity 
seemed to occur ; either the sea was too high to 
launch a boat when they met such a ship, or they 
did not care to lose a fair wind ; something always 
prevented. In the meantime John was given a 
berth in the forecastle, and worked his passage. 
At Shanghai he secured the place of second mate 
in the Rothsay, and started for home via England. 
The Rothsay was overtaken by the hurricane de- 
scribed above, and hove on her beam-ends : her 
captain was washed overboard with several of the 
crew ; it was then found necessary to cut away the 
masts to right her, and John had his leg broken in 
two places by a falling spar. After the ship righted 
it was discovered that she had started a butt, 
caused perhaps by the pounding of a mast-head 
before the wrecked stuff was cleared away, and the 
water gained rapidly on the pumps. 

John had suffered greatly from the severe acci- 
dent which had befallen him, which had been 
aggravated by exposure and lack of surgical aid. 
And although the tender care of his mother and 
the glad face of his father did much to relieve his 
pain, it was decided to put into Cape Town to pro- 
cure the medical advice he so much needed. At 
the Cape of Good Hope they remained several 
days, and then under propitious auspices hoisted 
the topsails once more for home. Past St. Helena’s 
rocky isle, across the line, and the Gulf Stream, the 
Dhulep Singh sped as if impelled by a conscious- 


248 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


ness of the glad tidings she bore to the forlorn 
heart on the cape, gazing with despair along the 
far-off verge of ocean for the sail of one who 
would never return to cheer her life again. 

It was a glad moment for all an board when the 
bare, yellow sand-hills of Cape Cod and the High- 
land Lighthouse hove in sight. “ My country ! ” 
exclaimed Captain Baker with exultation, as he 
proudly gazed on the rising shores of his native 
land, while Neptune, wagging his bushy tail with 
becoming dignity, evidently regarded the scene 
with similar sentiments, and hailed every passing 
vessel with a sonorous, good-natured bark. 

A question which often arises in life is whether 
the happiness that succeeds adversity and sorrow 
is dearly purchased at that rate. Probably, if we 
had the choosing of our destiny, we should shrink 
from such a valuation of good fortune. But Provi- 
dence, which lays down the laws for man, has other- 
wise ordained, and decrees that as in art so in life 
the strongest effects of light shall be gained by a 
deep, contrasting shade ; that repose shall come as 
a relief from toil and pain ; that rapture shall be 
rapture because it is the revulsion from overpower- 
ing anguish of soul. Hard is the law, terrible the 
price we pay for what happiness we have in life, 
but there is only one philosophy that is of any 
practical value here below, and that is to accept the 
inevitable. 

This train of thought received a practical exem- 
plification when Captain Baker, with his good wife 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 


249 


and son, arrived at home on a certain evening some 
years ago. The wedding which followed before 
many weeks needs little comment ; it was one of 
unusual solemnity and happiness ; and the chubby, 
blue-eyed, dimple-cheeked little girl, who appeared 
in due season thereafter, was regarded with pecu- 
liar feelings. It was a warm welcome indeed 
which she received from Grandmother Baker, who 
at one time had given up all prospect of ever see- 
ing this little granddaughter. 

“ Ah, little one, you little know how near you 
came to never having a father ! ” said Captain 
Baker, as for the first time he gazed entranced on 
his first grandchild. 

“ One may truly say that she was brought to us 
out of the depths/' said Mr. Plympton, the min- 
ister ; “ out of the depths of the sea, out of the 
depths of despair, she comes to us, bearing consola- 
tion and the smile of God reflected on her brow.” 
















. 







































































































































A CASE OF 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 





A CASE OF 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


L IKE most who follow the sea, I took to it in 
boyhood through sheer ignorance of its hard- 
ships, and burning with enthusiasm for untried 
adventure. But the first fortnight served to quench 
my ardor, although I continued to sail in various 
capacities for several years. 

When I was nineteen I shipped at Liverpool in 
the bark Althcea for Canton. Among the motley 
crew which, as usual, composed our mess in the 
forecastle, was Alfred Nevins, a youth apparently 
of my own age. He was of slender make and pale 
complexion ; and his blue eyes had a saddened 
expression and a far-away look, as of one who had 
early encountered misfortune and was destined to 
see more than his share of adversity. His lan- 
guage and manner showed a refinement indicative 
of birth and education, and of circumstances belied 
by his present position. 

The mother of Alfred came to bid him farewell 
before we cast off from the docks. With her was 
his little sister Alice and a fair young girl whose 
manner showed her to be the sweetheart of the 
youth who was now to climb the slippery rigging 


254 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


for the first time. But the hour was not propitious 
for a long leave-taking, and after a brief exchange 
of loving words, a mute pressure of the hands, the 
parting was over, and, answering the rough sum- 
mons of the surly mate, Alfred rushed forward to 
bear a hand on the hawsers. As the tug swiftly 
drew us toward the harbor mouth, I saw him now 
and again steal a furtive glance toward the lessen- 
ing forms waving their white handkerchiefs on the 
wharf. 

The similarity in our ages and the fact perhaps 
that he discerned in me the suggestions of refine- 
ment which was the result of social station once his 
own, brought us gradually together. This was ren- 
dered the more easy because happily we were in 
the same watch. Thus many a dark night when the 
clipper was rushing down the trades, a huge bulk 
of shadow raking the stars, while a mass of foam 
boiled along the reeling side of the ship as she rose 
and fell on the measured seas with a rhythmic 
motion, we paced the dew-wet deck or leaned on the 
bulwarks and talked of home. 

As our acquaintance ripened into friendship and 
intimacy, he told me how the failure and death of 
his father, a once wealthy merchant, had plunged 
the family into unexpected destitution. Alfred had 
been compelled to abandon the institution where he 
was studying for a profession, and, vainly seeking 
for congenial employment, had in a desperate hour 
shipped as a raw hand before the mast. He had in 
more prosperous days been fond of yachting as a 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 255 

sport, and now fancied that his experience there 
would be of aid in this new pursuit. But he soon 
found that yachting in one’s own little craft and 
serving in the forecastle of a merchant ship have 
little in common. 

Indeed, Alfred, like many of his character and 
station, was awarded even harder lines than usual. 
Men who have buffeted long with the sea often 
entertain a whimsical but not unnatural jealousy or 
dislike toward fresh hands who show evidences of 
superior refinement or social advantages, and testify 
this feeling by a harshness that seems intended to 
express their spite against what they choose to con- 
sider an assumed superiority. The officers of a 
ship are also not slow to detect such qualities as 
Alfred possessed, and make them the objects of a 
peculiar grudge. If the young sailor is of sound 
metal, he eventually succeeds in outliving these first 
trials, and perhaps ends by becoming as rude and 
unjust as his comrades. But not unfrequently he 
succumbs to the terrible persecution to which he is 
subjected, and either runs away at the first port or, 
rolled up in his blanket, finds an early grave in the 
deep sea. 

Alfred and I were in the mate’s watch. This offi- 
cer was not slow to make the young sailor the butt 
of his curses and blows. He was a short, thick-set 
man of powerful frame, whose stern red features 
were disfigured by an ugly scar from a wound in the 
cheek caused by the knife of a seaman who had 
resented Mr. Atkins’ fearful temper on a previous 


256 CIRCUMS TA N TIA L E VIDENCE. 


voyage. Mr. Atkins was a thorough mariner, but 
whatever might have been his disposition at home, 
at sea he was a terrible tyrant. So long as the 
mate by this course, unfortunately too common on 
shipboard, succeeded in maintaining discipline, 
Captain Gordon declined to interpose. Of greater 
dignity and repose of manner, as became his 
superior station, the captain was himself too much 
inclined to an arbitrary application of official power 
to interfere with the brutality of Mr. Atkins, a bru- 
tality so extreme that even the crew began to take 
sides with “ the gentleman,” as they mockingly 
dubbed Alfred at first. As he seemed inclined to 
accept his duties with a will, and after the first few 
days of sea-sickness and home-sickness, showed the 
good sense which cheerfully and courageously bows 
to the inevitable, their manner perceptibly warmed 
toward him. 

Thus passed the voyage out. At Canton we 
discharged our cargo, and having loaded with 
tea, pointed the bow of the Altheea for home. 
We carried sail hard, all hands being willing to do 
double duty for the sake of sighting once more the 
chalk cliffs of Old England. One night in the 
middle watch, when we were in the neighborhood 
of the Straits of Sunda, we were booming along 
with a beam wind, staggering under a press of sail, 
the royals set and the lee channels awash in the 
freshening breeze that came in sighing gusts off the 
land. The bow was buried in a smother of foam 
that roared like a cataract, and now and again the 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 257 

wind howled through the vast net-work of spars 
and rigging as the noble ship took a weather 
roll when a higher sea than usual rushed from 
under in a dark mountain, piling up to lee- 
ward. The night was inclined to be squally, with 
promise of a gale before morning out of the black 
wall of cloud that was rising on the weather quar- 
ter. The bark was evidently staggering under 
more canvas than she could safely carry, but Mr. 
Atkins held on in order to make all the longitude 
possible before the wind and sea rose higher. He 
was keeping a sharp look-out, however, perched by 
the weather rail of the quarter-deck, and grasping 
the main rigging ; he had ordered the men to stand 
by the royal and flying jib halyards to let go and 
clew down at the first word. The scene, which was 
singularly exciting, is the more vividly impressed 
on my memory on account of the events which it 
preceded. 

At last a puff came more quick and violent than 
usual. As the bark reeled over before it to her 
scuppers, a sharp crack was heard aloft, like the 
boom of a gun, and the fore top-gallant sail was 
seen flapping loose from the bolt ropes, shaking the 
vessel from stem to stern and threatening to carry 
away the fore top-gallant mast. Then ensued a 
scene of wild confusion, the orders following rapidly, 

“ Keep her away, there ! ” “Clew up the fore 
and main royals ! ” “ Let go the fore-top-gal- 
lant halyards ! ” “ Haul down the flying jib ! 0 

“ Call the watch ! ” “Clew up the gaft-topsail ! ” 


25S CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


The watch tumbled up from the forecastle, rubbing 
their eyes and grumbling at the mate for carrying 
on sail so long that he was forced to disturb their 
dearly-bought slumbers. They knew well enough 
what it meant for them when they saw the position 
of the ship, the flapping sails aloft and the driving 
scud obscuring the stars. All hands were busy for an 
hour getting the laboring ship snug under topsails. 
Then the watch were about to turn in again when 
the increasing force of the wind and sea suggested 
a reef in the topsails and all hands again went 
aloft excepting the man at the wheel ; this, most 
unfortunately, happened to be Alfred Nevins. He 
and Mr. Atkins had the deck to themselves and the 
master was asleep in his berth. The darkness was 
increasing, attended with spiteful dashes of rain, 
and an occasional flash of lightning in the offing. 

I was at the weather main-topsail earing, not 
feeling especially secure at that lofty height, tug- 
ging away with both hands to draw the cringle out 
to the yard-arm, clinging with one leg thrown over 
the spar, which rose and fell, sweeping with vast 
curves through the windy air, while the heavy folds 
of the wet sail flew out or flapped against the rig- 
ging with a force that threatened to jerk the line of 
dark forms on the yard into the frothing yeast of 
foam below. Suddenly we became aware that the 
ship was off her course and taken aback, showing 
that the man at the wheel was either steering wildly 
or had abandoned the helm. In the wind that was 
blowing, and the sea against which she was driving 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


2 59 


stern on unmanageable, it was evident the ship was 
in the imminent danger of foundering. While we 
aloft were lost in amazement at the crisis and 
awaiting fresh orders from on deck, the changed 
movement of the ship, and the trembling of the 
rigging and hull, aroused the captain. Leaping from 
his berth he rushed on deck in his shirt, He found 
the mate gone, and without waiting to ask for the 
reason, at once ordered all hands down from the 
rigging to save the ship. Not a moment was to be 
lost. Grasping halyards or stays we slipped down 
to the deck in a trice, and were commanded to 
lower the spanker and brace about the yards, while 
the helm was trimmed to meet the emergency. 
Every effort was put forth by all on board. 
Death stared us in the face, peering grimly over 
the taffrail and yearning to draw us down to the 
black depths. We thought of those at home, and 
by energy almost superhuman, at last succeeded in 
getting the vessel again under headway, and draw- 
ing off from the ingulfing surges. 

This danger was over for the time ; but now a 
new terror, a mysterious horror hung over the ship, 
causing us to speak in whispers. There was one 
less man on board, and he that was missing was the 
mate. The circumstance that the bark wa£ taken 
so strangely aback while Alfred was steering, and 
that he alone said nothing on the subject, suggested 
to all the unspoken thought that he knew more 
about the disappearance of the mate than he cared 
to tell. During the dog-watches Mr. Atkins had 


260 


CIRCUMS TANTIAL E VIDENCE. 


severely maltreated him, and we now seemed 
instinctively to perceive some relation between the 
two events. 

I hardly dared permit myself to harbor the 
thought oi what this meant, such was my sympathy 
for the poor fellow, and so brotherly was my 
attachment for him. But Captain Gordon felt no 
such hesitation. Having made all snug aloft, he 
proceeded to interrogate Alfred in a tone which 
indicated that he had already decided the matter 
in his own mind. It was a weird scene on the deck 
of the ship that dark, tumultuous night, as Captain 
Gordon fiercely demanded of the pale youth before 
him an account of the disappearance of the mate. 
Alfred stated that Mr. Atkins approached him gruffly 
and in his usual brutal manner and rated him as a 
lazy hound for not minding the wheel properly, 
although doing his best to hold the unruly ship on 
her course. On being answered to that effect, the 
mate roared that he allowed no man to bandy words 
with him, and struck him heavily. Actually fearing 
for his life from the fury of a man crazed by the 
authority he held, the boy sought to defend 
himself, and the two clinched in a death embrace. 
It was^at that moment that, the wheel being aban- 
doned, the bark was taken aback. The mate by 
sheer force dragged the youth to the taffrail, and, 
as they bent over it, the one trying to hurl the 
other into the sea, Alfred was so nerved by des- 
peration that the mate, although much the. more 
powerful, could not accomplish his fell purpose. 


CIRCUMS TA N TIAL £ VIDENCE. 6 1 

Finding himself baffled, he drew Alfred’s knife 
from the sheath in his belt and sought to stab him. 
Alfred, with a superhuman effort, tore himself from 
the iron grip of his enemy, and at the same moment 
a lurch of the ship caused the mate to lose his 
balance and fall overboard. 

This was the story Alfred told, and from what we 
knew of the relations of the two men, there was 
nothing <to make it impossible. The fact that he had 
not given the alarm the moment Mr. Atkins disap- 
peared was not necessarily against him ; the agita- 
tion natural after such a struggle, in which he him- 
self had nearly been the victim, would, for the time, 
numb his sensibilities, while the conduct of his 
tormentor had been such as to prevent any special 
anxiety -to save him. Captain Gordon was on the 
point of reluctantly accepting this explanation, 
probably hoping later on to gain further cleus to the 
mysterious fate of his mate, when his foot struck a 
sailor’s knife lying on the deck. It was found to 
be covered with blood ; further inspection revealed 
the fact that Alfred’s knife was missing from its 
sheath, and the light of the lantern discovered the 
spatter of blood on his own clothes. The horror 
and surprise he exhibited on this discovery might 
have been caused by a sense of the position in 
which he now found himself ; yet it was useless to 
deny that the proofs of murder were of the most 
damning character. 

With fierce exultation Captain Gordon ordered 
the carpenter to bring his rivets and chains. 


262 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 

The slender wrists and ankles of the trembling 
youth were manacled and he was thrown into 
a stifling hole under the booby hatch, where 
there was neither room to stand up nor to lie down. 
Twice a day bread and water and occasionally 
a bit of spoiled beef were doled out to him. As 
for us in the forecastle, opinion in regard to 
Alfred’s guilt was divided. All agreed that so far 
as provocation was concerned he was amply jus- 
tified in killing his persecutor on the first fair 
opportunity. But on the question of fact the 
majority agreed that it “ looked black for Al. 
Luck had been agin’ him from the day he put foot 
on this bloody ship.” Two or three, like myself, 
entertained a hope that somehow, sometime, a 
happy solution of the mystery would be found in 
time to save him from the gallows. But, after all, 
this was but a forlorn hope that when sifted down 
afforded but slight ground for defense. As I 
paced the deck night after night while the ship 
plowed her way nearer to England, and thought 
of my poor friend pining in chains below, my 
heart gave way to despair. What anguish awaited 
his friends, and what horrors were in store for 
him when the law claimed another victim to satisfy 
the rulings of circumstantial evidence. 

With a “ yo heave o ! * we warped the ship up to 
her berth in the docks of Liverpool. One of the 
first acts of Captain Gordon, after making his ship 
snug at the wharf, was to send for the officers of the 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 263 

law. With bated breath the crew stopped in their 
work to see the pale, manacled boy led up from 
between decks, and with a stalwart officer griping 
each arm, dragging himself to the prison van that 
was to carry him away. 

Seeing us standing as lookers-on, our faces indi- 
cating a deep sympathy for our shipmate, the sec- 
ond mate yelled, “ Here you Tom, Jim, Brown, all 
of you. you lazy loons ! What are you standing 
there for, gaping as if that’s what you are paid 
for ! Per’aps you think it’s May-day and you’re 
going of a-gatherin’ sea posies in Patigony ! or 
per’aps you’d like to have a berth alongside of that 
ere murderin’ chap what’s gone ashore. Now 
then, stand by, and bowse on that ere line, or '11 
blow your bloody heads off your lazy shoulders ! " 

Such talk is heard so often as a matter of course 
on the forecastle of a sailing ship that with only a 
curse muttered under the breath we fell to work 
again until our wages were told off and we were 
sent ashore to have our bones picked by the land- 
sharks and covies keeping a sharp look-out for us at 
the first corner under the den ironically styled 
“ The Sailor’s Retreat.” When our hard-earned 
shillings had oozed out of our pockets in the 
myriad-reeking groggeries of one of the wickedest 
cities of the world, we began to think of shipping 
once more. But we were soon made aware by the 
grim ogres of the law that to witness a crime is next 
door to committing one. Subpoenaed we were, 
those of our crew who had not already conveniently 


264 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 

fled the town, being held to testify in the case of 
the Crown vs. Alfred Nevins, committed for mur- 
der on the high seas. 

Those of our number who could not give bonds 
for appearance at the assizes were considerately 
offered board and lodgings in the jail. As the 
state allowed us no option in the matter, we found 
ourselves in the attractive position of prisoners 
bound to swear away the life of a shipmate whom 
we considered innocent, or at least deserving of a 
better fate. Society in providing remedies for its 
security, has been obliged to ordain certain meth- 
ods that are certainly open to question. 

The day came at last which was to decide the fate 
of Alfred Nevins. Wan and cast down, the poor 
prisoner sat in the dock too deeply overwhelmed 
by his appalling position to take note of the machin- 
ery of the law prepared to harrow his soul in the 
few hours left to him here, and toss him unfeelingly 
into the mysterious chaos and gloom of life beyond 
this poor, sorrowful existence of a suffering mortal- 
ity. The counsel on either side, important in 
official robes and wigs, were busy looking over their 
papers : the jury, with solemn, expressionless faces, 
were primly seated in the place appointed for the 
decision of the destiny of their fellow-mortals. The 
judge, wigged in the most imposing style, armed 
with a massive, official double chin and a hard, 
pursed-up lip, was listening now to this, now to that 
officer, preparatory to the opening of the court. In 
a corner by themselves curiously or sympathetically 


CIRCUMSTA NTIAL E VIDENCE. 265 

observed by a few of the spectators, sat the wid- 
owed mother of the prisoner at the bar, with his 
little sister on one side and his betrothed on the 
other. Who shall tell the settled despair that 
looked forth from their downcast eyes as they clung 
to each other in mute amazement at the doom that 
had thrown its shadow over their lives. The sight 
of that affecting group suddenly brought the tears 
to my own eyes, and I was forced to summon to 
my aid all the fortitude of a British tar in order not 
to lose command of myself before the court. 

The queen’s counsel opened the case by a thrill- 
ing description of the foul murder of a tried and 
noble English seaman when in the discharge of his 
duty. After a long and severe voyage, the noble 
counsel went on to say, he was once more on the 
way home, looking forward with joy to the hour 
that should restore him to the bosom of his family. 
They, in turn, were counting the hours that should 
bring the absent husband and father to their arms 
and give him repose after the arduous hardships of 
life at sea. In a moment, in the twinkling of an 
eye, as it were, in the face of the laws of God and 
of man, in defiance of the discipline so absolutely 
essential to the preservation of order on shipboard 
and without regard to the ties which could have 
protected him from the ruffian’s blows, he was 
treacherously attacked, wounded to the death and 
cast overboard without prayer or burial by a miscre- 
ant whose youth, whose family, and whose early edu- 
cation and associations gave promise of reaching a 


266 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 

higher end. Alfred Nevins, unmindful of the 
mother who bore him, of the respected father now 
alas in the tomb, and of all the considerations that 
lead to rectitude and elevation of character, had 
basely yielded to the dictates of passion or of mo- 
tives best known to his own depraved nature. 
Happily for order and civilization, there were laws 
by which he could be justly tried, and as would 
undoubtedly be the case, condemned. Far be it 
for the prosecution in this trying hour to say 
aught to add to the miseries of his position or the 
sorrow of the family now suffering for his crime ; 
but it was his duty, painful though it be, to 
remind the jury that they were not there to listen 
to the promptings of sympathy for the prisoner at 
the bar or his friends. Their duty was plain ; it 
was for them to pay careful heed to the testi- 
mony, and to bring in a verdict that would be 
in accordance with the facts and the law. 
What that verdict would be the eminent counsel 
affirmed that he had no doubt ; the eyes of England 
were upon them ; in view of the facts there could 
be but one result, and he looked to them to justify 
the confidence placed in their intelligence, their vir- 
tue, and their patriotism. 

Such in brief was the presentation of the case by 
the counsel for the prosecution. There was blood 
in his eye when he sat down wiping his spacious brow 
with the massive folds of a scarlet -silk handker- 
chief. The impression made by this speech was 
profound. Although the witnesses had not yet 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 267 

been called, it was felt that the facts were so one 
sided, and the laws in regard to crimes of this sort 
were so rigid and unrelenting that the case was 
practically settled almost before it had begun ; only 
a miracle could save Alfred Nevins from the gal- 
lows. 

Captain Gordon was the first witness called. 
His testimony was in accordance with the facts so 
far as known to him. When my turn came it was 
with the utmost reluctance and with illy-concealed 
agitation that I was able to reply to the searching 
questions of the prosecution. Once I ventured to 
say that I felt assured of the innocence of the priso- 
ner ; that an explanation of the mystery would come 
to light sometime, and that the dead mate was a 
brute who deserved a thousand deaths, before the 
law should dare to touch a hair of one as guiltless of 
such a crime as the prisoner. But before I could 
complete my impromptu plea for my poor friend, the 
counsel shook his quivering finger at me, saying, 
“ Have you a care, young man ; you are not'here to 
plead but to answer ; beware lest you render your- 
self liable for contempt by your brazen assurance ! ” 
Witnesses are, I regret to have to admit, too often 
made the game of the agents of the law. The testi- 
mony of the various witnesses, however reluctantly 
given, was to the same effect, all one way. 

The most that the counsel for the defense could 
present to offset this testimony was to plead the 
hitherto unblemished character of the prisoner 
and the important fact that no one had seen 


268 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE . 


him commit the deed. He pled with powerful 
eloquence against condemning the life of a 
fellow-being on no better evidence than this, in 
the face of his previous character, and of the 
impossibility that one so young and so noble could 
thus suddenly develop into a cruel murderer 
and felon. He urged that in a case depending 
wholly on circumstantial evidence the good charac- 
ter of a prisoner ought to be accepted as a strong 
point in his favor ; and that under circumstances 
like these to take life was a crime for which society 
must eventually suffer. The principle that it is 
better that nine guilty men should escape than that 
one innocent man be condemned, if it has any 
force at all, was certainly applicable to the case of 
Alfred Nevins. “ May it please the court and jury," 
continued the counsel in the most impressive man- 
ner, “ I beg to emphasize the postulate that to con- 
demn and hang a prisoner whose entire previous 
life and character are wholly opposed to the com- 
mission of such a crime, solely on presumptive 
evidence, is scarcely a less crime than that for which 
he is accused. Condemn this poor, pale, misfor- 
tune-ridden youth, the plaything of a mysterious 
destiny, if you will ; consider not, weigh not, the 
purity of his life, the noble unselfishness that led 
him to seek a livelihood for his widowed mother 
and orphaned sister on the stormy seas and on a 
ship whose brutal officers were more harsh and 
heartless than tigers of the wilderness ; his fate is 
in your hands ; but know that surely as the last 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 269 

great day when we shall all be judged shall come, 
his innocence will be proved and the laws by which 
we now condemn men to death on circumstantial 
evidence alone will be wiped out from the statute 
books, and the age that permitted such laws will be 
accounted barbarian.” 

The prosecuting counsel in summing up the 
evidence, replied that whatever might be the Uto- 
pian code to which his learned friend on the oppo- 
site side aspired, in the case under consideration, 
we unfortunately were not permitted to act as law- 
givers, or legislators, but as expounders of the law 
as it existed. Under that law Alfred Nevins stood 
condemned. Under that law he had received a 
fair trial, and there could only be one conclusion 
from the testimony rendered by more than twenty 
witnesses, all good men and true. If we were to 
allow our sympathies to guide our reason in such 
cases, we might better shut up our statutes, close 
the courts, and let red-handed anarchy reign over 
land and sea. This was not a question of sym- 
pathy ; that was for the Crown in its mercy to 
decide. In this court, at this hour, the jury had 
only to consider the law. 

The summing up and presentation of the case 
by the presiding judge was similar in effect to 
that of the queen’s counsel, although more brief 
and rendered with the usual solemn platitudes 
that give such inexplicable weight to even the most 
mediocre dispensers of legal wisdom from the 
woolsack. If the jury on consideration of the law 


270 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE . 

and the facts found against the prisoner, then 
they were to render a verdict of guilty ; if on 
the other hand, they discovered palliating cir- 
cumstances or that the evidence was insufficient, 
it was their duty to find for the prisoner of 
the bar. But they should remember that the case 
was free from subtleties, the law being clear on the 
points at issue, and that the weal of society 
required a rigorous application of the laws ordained 
by long usage for the protection of men in the 
pursuit of their avocations. Crimes on the high 
seas were in the nature of the case easy of per- 
formance, and often difficult to bring home to the 
guilty parties ; such crimes had unfortunately been 
too common of late. While the jury should not 
bring in a verdict against the evidence, they should 
allow no false sympathy to swerve them from a 
strict interpretation of the law. 

It was felt that the charge of the judge bore 
against the prisoner, and every one was prepared 
for an unfavorable verdict. Yet so long as the 
worst is not known, there is hope, so strange are 
the workings of the human heart. When the jury 
came in, all hope departed ; the solemnity of their 
manner announced the decision. But when the 
foreman, with tears in his eyes, pronounced the 
words, '* Guilty of murder in the first degree," a 
piercing shriek thrilled every heart with anguish 
and horror. Agnes, the betrothed of the doomed, 
had thus given vent to the terrible despair of that 
agonizing moment, and fallen into a dead syncope 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 271 

from which she was only revived with difficulty, 
and then only to pass into the state of a raving 
maniac. The wretched mother sat apparently 
unmoved during this awful scene, but in reality her 
calmness was that of a despair so overpowering 
that her sensibilities were benumbed, and she 
seemed like one transfixed to stone. The little 
sister was also paralyzed by the horror of an hour 
too dreadful for language, and could only sit and 
wring her hands while the tears fell in a steady 
stream unheeded. 

The judge, in a low and husky tone, directed 
them to be removed, the only evidence of pity 
exhibited by the bench during the proceedings. 
When the prisoner’s family had been taken from 
the court-room, the judge ordered the prisoner to 
stand up. During this interval I had scarcely 
dared to look at him, such had been my agitation 
in the presence of such extreme sorrow and so 
intense my self-accusation that I had allowed 
myself to be driven to uttering a word that might 
prove a nail in his coffin. But when I now saw 
him standing before the court to hear his sentence, 
what a change had come over him. The flaccid 
face had hardened, the bent quivering frame was 
firm and erect, and the eye that had been unsettled 
in its. expression of suspense, anxiety and pain, was 
cold, stern, defiant, nay heroic, in the nerve and 
courage^ that burned there while he gazed with 
steady aim at the judge. 

“ Alfred Nevins, what have you to say, why 


272 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE . 


sentence should not be passed upon you ? ” de- 
manded the judge in a deep deliberate metallic voice. 

“ I have to answer,” replied the prisoner with 
deliberate enunciation, “ that I am not guilty of the 
grave crime laid to my charge. I am the victim of 
circumstances beyond my control ; but while the 
laws are constituted as they are now, I must look for 
my vindication to another tribunal to w r hich you are 
now sending me, and before which I appear with- 
out fear and without reproach. It is terrible to 
die in this way, but I accept my doom if it can lead 
to a reconstruction of the criminal laws of our land.” 

The short address of the prisoner produced a 
profound impression ; had he been permitted to 
testify for himself before the jury went out, the 
verdict might have been different. But the judge 
had heard so many similar dying pleas that the 
words of the condemned produced no apparent 
effect upon him ; at least, none to which he could 
give expression in view of the solemn duty he now 
had to discharge. 

As nearly as I can remember, the sentence was as 
follows : 

“ Prisoner at the bar : you have received a fair 
trial before a jury of your own countrymen ; they 
have weighed the facts and have adjudged you 
worthy of death ; their opinion appears to this 
court to be just ; it is in accordance wjth the law 
and the evidence ; your crime is aggravated by the 
advantages of early education which you enjoyed 
and the recklessness with which you forgot the con- 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 273 

sideration of family ties that should have led you 
to hesitate before jeopardizing their happiness for 
the gratification of a private grudge, for which the 
laws you condemn had offered adequate remedies. 
It only remains for me to pronounce the sentence 
of this court, which is that you be taken to the 
place of public execution two weeks from this day, 
being the 10th day of December next, there to be 
hanged by the neck until you are dead, and may 
God have mercy on your soul." 

The prisoner heard the sentence unmoved, except 
that his face became for an instant even more pale 
than was its wont. He was removed to his cell, 
and I saw him no more until the fatal day. Once 
I sought admittance to his presence, but he sent 
me word that while he bore me no ill-will for testi- 
fying against him, no good could come of his see- 
ing any one again in this world. He had steeled him- 
self to die like a man, and no one would he see except 
the jailor. Not even the chaplain would he allow 
to speak to him in this awful crisis of his destiny. 
He had sinned like others, he said, but never to a 
degree demanding such a penalty ; his life had 
been short and bitter ; and if Providence had aught 
of consolation or justification in store for him, he 
would wait until he reached the next world and 
understood matters more clearly than any one 
could explain them here. The chaplain, good, 
narrow soul, of course took this refusal to see him 
as evidence of determined, contumacious guilt. 
Perhaps he knows better now, for both have long 


274 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 

since passed to the land of revelations where the 
accounts are balanced and the wrongs of this life, 
let us hope, are righted and the problems explained 
that make so many skeptics in this world. 

But the case was not allowed to rest here. The 
story of the poor sailor boy and his friends aroused 
a wide sympathy, and many, even among those who 
believed Alfred to be guilty, felt that the extreme 
penalty of the law should be remitted at least for 
transportation or life imprisonment. It was argued 
that his youth and previous good character sug- 
gested sufficient grounds for executive clemency, 
together with the admitted brutal provocations 
which might well have driven him to this deed. A 
subscription was started and a purse given to Mrs. 
Nevins, who with her daughter and the good pastor 
of the family, went up to London to intercede with 
the Queen. The case was urgent ; the interval 
between sentence and execution was short in those 
days. No time was to be lost. After many need- 
less delays, owing to the apathy of the intermediate 
officials and the red tape of circumlocution bureaus, 
the mother of Alfred was at last admitted to plead 
his cause in person. Something must be said for 
the refusal of the Crown to grant a pardon. So 
many cases are brought to its consideration, often 
with pity for the afflicted family as the only reason 
for pardon, that it is excessively difficult to dis- 
tinguish between cases that are really deserving and 
those that should be dismissed ungranted. The law, 
until changed, must be executed or it loses effi- 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL E V 1 DENCE. 275 

cacy as a protector of social order. So reasoned 
the advisers of the Queen in the present instance. 

Alfred Nevins died with fortitude. The family 
was allowed to bury the body in the family vault, 
the only property left them in the wreck of their 
estate. Agnes was now in the insane asylum, 
where she remained until her death. Mrs. Nevins, 
sinking under her accumulated sufferings, followed 
her son within a month and was laid by his side. 
There remained only his little sister. I adopted 
and placed her at a small school kept by an estima- 
ble widow lady. A small patrimony falling to me 
at this time, I was enabled to carry out this plan. 
About the same time also the position of second 
mate was offered me, and having no other business 
in view, I decided to accept the berth, although 
resolving sooner or later to abandon the sea and 
adopt some civil pursuit. 

Three years after these sad events I ft ^ ill at 
New Orleans with a fever, and my ship was obliged 
to sail without me ; I was left in the hospital, a 
lodging which under the best of circumstances 
offers but few attractions. During the period of 
convalescence my attention was attracted to a sea- 
man lying in the same ward ; his ravings had 
drawn my attention, and when I was able to hobble 
about the apartment I went to his bedside, led by a 
singular instinct. The emaciated features had yet 
g. familiar look ; where had I seen that face before > 
Suddenly the truth flashed upon me with a shock 
that caused my heart to beat with such violence 1 


276 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE . 

was forced to lean against the wall for support. 
One of the attendants, himself a superannuated 
seaman, seeing my condition hurried to my assist- 
ance. I could only gasp, “ Who is he, what is his 
name ? ” “ His name ? why, don’t you know, that’s 
Jim Atkins, master of the tug Belle Creole. A 
tough one he is too ; it’s been his luck these many 
years, allers to come up on the top of the heap ; 
but I ’speckt he’s agoin’ to slip his cable this time ; 
the number of his mess’ll be wanting afore another 
sun rises.” 

Atkins it was indeed, for whom Alfred Nevins 
had been hanged ! It was evident that he had not 
long to live ; his large, coarse bronzed features 
were dreadfully emaciated and flushed with the 
fever-flame ; the enormous bony hands lay on the 
bedspread limp and yet sometimes clutching the 
quilt with a grip that had in it some of the demo- 
niac strength of the days when he wielded the cat 
on a sailor’s bare back or tossed men across the 
deck like pups. I saw that when the fever left 
him he would probably sink into a final collapse 
soon after ; as it often happens that at such a time 
a patient has a lucid interval before death closes 
his lips, I nerved myself to sit by his bedside and 
watch ; for I sought a vindication of the good 
name of my poor friend Alfred. 

As I anticipated, toward midnight the dying 
man became calm and in a feeble and rational tone 
called for a drink of water. Motioning to the 
attendant to step one side I handed the water to 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


277 


him myself. I raised his head and held the cup to 
his lips ; when his head fell back his eyes looked 
into mine ; he gazed some moments, vacantly, then 
with growing intelligence, as if recalling some 
vague memory ; then he whispered, “ Jack, is that 
you ? ” 

“ Yes, Mr. Atkins, it’s me ; it’s a long time 
since we met on the old bark Althcea. I'm 
glad you remember me. You’ve been a pretty sick 
man, but your mind seems to be all right again,” 
I replied. 

“ Yes ; but I don't much think I shall pull 
through, though. Oh, my God, my God ! ” 

“ Is there any thing I can do for you, shipmate, 
any message you want to send to your friends ? 
Perhaps there’s something you want to say.” 

“ Ay, ay, there is .something.” He shut his 
eyes and gasped as if he wanted to speak and yet 
hesitated. I beckoned to the attendant and whis- 
pered to him to stand by and listen carefully to 
whatever the dying man might say. 

“ You remember Alf Nevins, don’t you ? ” I 
repeated slowly, as if to jog his memory, and 
stroking his clammy forehead. 

“ Ay, that’s what I want to say,” he gasped. 
“ It’s about him ; they tell me he was hanged 
because of me — 'twan’t his fault — I was mad 
— I tried to — stab him — and I cut myself as I 
fell overboard when she gave a lurch — I 
caught a floating log — they picked me up — a 
passing ship, you know One thing more — - 


278 CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


there’s money in the bank here — write that down 
— I — William Atkins— send it to his family — the 
family of Alfred Nevins — it’s all I have.” 

The last sentences we took down on a scrap of 
paper and I held his hand while he signed this as it 
were nuncupatory will. He died when the sun arose. 
As soon as I was sufficiently recovered I returned 
to England and immediately caused all the facts to 
be published. I also called on the learned judge 
himself and presented my statement. 

“ Dear me,” said he, “ how very dreadful all this 
is ; but really I do not see how any one can be 
blamed for this most unfortunate result ; law, you 
know, is law.” 

“ Granting what you say, sir,” I replied, “ yet it is 
not too late to prevent the recurrence of such ter- 
rible mischances. Do you remember that young 
Nevins said that he would accept his doom without 
a murmur if it could lead to the reconstruction of 
our criminal laws ? ” 

“ Ah yes, to be sure, he did say something of the 
sort ; but of course it was the mere raving of a 
wretch who was justly condemned.” 

“ Do I understand you aright ? How could he 
be justly condemned if innocent ? ” I answered 
with some asperity. 

“ I mean, of course, being tried on the evidence, 
he was condemned according to the laws of evi- 
dence ; those laws are the result of long experience 
tempered by wisdom. Naturally cases must occur 
where the operations of the law are attended^with 
some hardship ; but in the main they work with 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 279 

beautiful precision, and move with a majesty that 
every true Englishman admires and reveres.” 

“ But does it not occur to you, sir, that remedies 
might be found to meet and relieve exceptional 
cases like this ? does it not seem possible, righteous 
and just that prisoners tried for their lives on 
merely circumstantial evidence should have the 
benefit of the doubt which such evidence often 
suggests, and at least be let off with their lives, 
the sentence being commuted to a life-impris- 
onment ? do you not see, sir, that this allows 
a chance of the benefit of any later develop- 
ments or testimony, which, as in the case of Nevins, 
completely exculpate the alleged criminal or palli- 
ate his deed ? by such procedure the rights of 
society may be vindicated at the same time.” 

“ My dear sir," replied his honor, falling back 
on his British conservatism and retiring within his 
shell of professional reserve, “ the subject you have 
introduced is a large one and is really quite beyond 
my province ; my business is to administer not to 
criticise a code for which Englishmen have just 
reason to be proud.” He began to fumble a 
pile of documents ; seizing the hint I bowed myself 
out. But the events I have now narrated led me to 
reflect more deeply than ever on the choice of a 
pursuit in place of the sea life I now resolved to 
abandon. I could not hesitate what it should be. 
I adopted the profession of law, selecting crim- 
inal law as my department ; I did this with the 
determination of doing all in my power to alter the 


280 circumstantial evidence. 

existing operation of the laws bearing on circum- 
stantial evidence. In the course of a long practice it 
has been my happiness to cause the death-sentence 
of more than one poor wretch to be commuted to 
imprisonment. In three cases subsequent revela- 
tions have caused their release. Although the laws 
on this point are still unchanged, there is now a 
growing sentiment in the community against the 
execution of the capital penalty in cases depending 
wholly upon circumstantial evidence for proof. It 
may reasonably be hoped that the laws themselves 
bearing on the subject may be radically changed 
ere long ; for after all has been urged to the 
contrary, it is better that nine guilty men escape, 
than that one innocent man should suffer. 
Life-sentence instead of death should be the 
maxim in all doubtful cases. 

Alice Nevins, the sister of Alfred, grew up to be 
a handsome and intelligent woman. A tinge of 
sadness deepened the loveliness of her expression, 
a sadness which has gradually passed away since 
she became my wife. Our oldest, a boy, bears the 
name of Alfred, and resembles him in looks and 
disposition. It is my hope that he will devote his 
energies to a readjustment of the penalties awarded 
in cases decided on circumstantial evidence alone. 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 


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THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 


T HE life of man is a battle to maintain the bare 
fact of existence. There is scarce any thing 
that calls for the action of his energies which does 
not grow out of this endless and desperate struggle 
with a remorseless destiny that aims at his vitals as 
soon as he comes into the world. If he stays on 
land, the contest is sufficiently severe ; but if, lured 
by ignorance, he ventures his fortunes on the seas, 
he then has still more cause to wonder why he was 
created, for what was at one time comparatively a 
safeguard, becomes at once a peril. Resenting the 
whim which leads a man to go to sea, no sooner 
does he leave the land than it becomes an enemy 
to him, and on every hand threatens his ship and 
his life with reefs, shoals, and implacable cliffs. 

With Nature thus fighting for his life both by land 
and sea, this plaything of the storms, this puppet 
of Fate, is forced to invent various means and 
devise every precaution to avoid losing the ques- 
tionable gift of life. One of these is a system 
of warning-signals to avert him from the dangers 
awaiting him as he approaches a coast. Beacons 
by day, light-houses by night, are some of the 


284 THE LIGHT-IIOUSES OF OLD. 

means thus employed. But so admirable are the 
light-houses which during the last century have 
been erected by civilized nations, so complete is the 
organization that regulates them, that we are liable 
to conclude that light-houses or beacon-flames as a 
guidance to the mariner are a recent invention. 

But although, when we pursue our inquiries on 
the subject beyond the fourteenth century, we 
meet with only brief data, and must sometimes 
resort to conjecture, yet enough has been recorded 
in the chronicles of the past to enable us to know 
that at least three thousand years ago the wits of 
man were called into play to devise means of 
approaching a dangerous coast in safety. The 
first attempt of this sort was simply a bonfire on 
the brow of a cliff. Then followed rude towers lit 
with burning torches. Something resembling this 
is indicated in the light with which it is said Hero 
sought to beacon Leander to her arms ; while at 
the northern mouth of the Thracian Bosphorus, 
overlooking the stormy Euxine, we find undoubt- 
edly one of the first spots where the mariner of 
prehistoric times sought to guide his uncertain path 
over the treacherous seas. The legends which 
surrounded that locality, and already invested it in 
the time of Jason with vague terrors that doubt- 
less had a basis in fact, indicate that this would 
naturally have been the scene for beacon-fires and 
torch-lit towers, as it is at the present day. On the 
low promontories which jut beyond the high, pre- 
cipitous shores, light-houses were undoubtedly 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 285 

placed at a very early day. What is even more 
than conjecture is the fact that on the 
lofty hill on the eastern side of the Bosphorus, 
near the entrance, a warning flame was placed at a 
very remote period, for we know that many hun- 
dred years before Christ a temple stood there dedi- 
cated to Jupiter Urius, as the god of mariners and 
storms, and that sailors ascended there to consult 
the omens before venturing to brave the lowering 
Euxine. Remains of that temple are found there 
to this day, and Turkish sailors still climb to that 
height in dubious weather to consult the signs of 
the heavens before trusting their clumsy pictur- 
esque coasters to the wrath of the genius of the 
Black Sea. 

It is curious that no record is made of light- 
houses in Greece at a time when Pericles was 
fortifying Athens in such a magnificent manner, 
and furnishing her three ports with the finest 
harbor defenses and dockyards of antiquity. 
And yet there is every reason to believe that the 
narrow entrance to the Pirseus was indicated by 
beacon-lights at least. 

Over one hundred years later was erected the 
famous Colossus of Rhodes. Designed by the 
sculptor Chares, it was of bronze, one hundred and 
five Grecian feet in height, or about one hundred 
and twenty English feet, and stood commandingly 
over the narrow entrance of the port. It is stated 
that the colossus was constructed in honor of 
Apollo, and there is some uncertainty as to its hav- 


28 6 THE LIGHT HOUSES OF OLD. 

ing been erected exclusively for a light-house ; but 
its position, and the very fact that Apollo was the 
god of light, give color to the well-defined tradition 
that this statue also held a torch in its gigantic 
uplifted right hand to guide the mariner at night, 
the light being reached by a stairway in the arm. 
The colossus reminds us of the hypothesis that the 
Cyclops of Sicily was really a beacon-tower, whose 
single eye in the middle of his forehead was in 
reality a torch. 

But the most famous of all light-houses, and at 
the same time the first one of which we have a 
tolerably complete description, and a specific state- 
ment that it was built expressly for such a purpose, 
was the Pharos of Alexandria, in Egypt. It was 
built by Ptolemy Philadelphus, about 270 b. c., on a 
small island at the entrance to the harbor, and was 
connected by a causeway with the mainland. The 
Pharos cost eight hundred talents : if these were 
silver talents, as most likely they were, that would 
be equal to $850,000, probably the largest sum ever 
expended on a light-house. The base of this struc- 
ture was said to have been some four hundred feet 
square. This probably referred to a wall of circum- 
vallation, although it is not impossible that the 
typical form of Egyptian architecture, the pyramid, 
may have been partly adopted in the construction 
of the Pharos. But, although pyramidal in general 
form, this outline was broken by different stories, 
decorated with galleries and columns, and, as the 
whole was built of white marble, the effect must 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 287 

have been at once elegant and impressive. The 
height was about four hundred and fifty feet above 
the sea-level ; at the summit fires were kept burn- 
ing to direct the mariner through the tortuous 
entrance into the bay. 

It was said by some of the ancients that the flame 
of the Pharos could be discerned one hundred 
miles at sea, which is a most preposterous estimate, 
especially as they had no night-glasses in those 
times to assist the vision. A first-class light of 
modern times, with all the latest inventions for 
increasing the intensity, is only visible thirty miles 
at sea, without regard to the height of its elevation. 
It is altogether unlikely that the smoky gleams of 
the ancient Pharos were seen over twenty to twenty- 
five miles on a clear night. 

One of the most remarkable circumstances con- 
nected with the Pharos was regarding its architect, 
Sostratus. It seems he was anxious to perpetuate 
a sort of copyright to his authorship in the work, 
and according to Strabo he caused the following 
inscription to be cut into the marble : “ Sostratus 

the Cnidian, son of Dexiphanes, to the gods the 
preservers, for the advantage of mariners.” That 
Ptolemy should have been willing to have an inscrip- 
tion placed on the Pharos which awarded to another 
the whole glory of the undertaking, seems an excess 
of magnanimity hardly to be expected in an Oriental 
monarch, although he might have permitted the 
addition of a legend simply stating the name of 
the architect. It is therefore not surprising to find 


288 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD . 


that another ancient writer states explicitly that, 
after cutting the above inscription in the stone, 
Sostratus caused it to be filled in a hard cement, 
on which he engraved another inscription, 
awarding the credit of the work to the king, its 
founder. In the course of ages, the cement wear- 
ing away, the original inscription was revealed. 
Some commentators have considered this last state- 
ment absurd. To us, aside from the unnecessary 
invention of a tale that would be altogether gratui- 
tous, this seems far more likely, from the nature of 
the case, to be the true version of the fact. 

But whatever be the truth regarding Sostratus, 
the work of his genius continued for ages to shed 
its beneficent rays over the tossing waters of the 
Mediterranean, “ nocturnis ignibus cur sum navium 
regens” as Pliny records. It is not generally known 
that the Pharos stood until 1303, or something over 
sixteen hundred years. But to what cause it finally 
owed its destruction does not seem to be distinctly 
recorded. It is certainly a fact so remarkable as to 
be something more than a coincidence that so many 
of the masterpieces of ancient architecture should 
have survived the wreck of so many centuries until 
the revival of the arts in Europe was preparing the 
world once more to appreciate their merits, and 
then, by one untoward event or another, were either 
completely destroyed, or, like the Parthenon, sadly 
mutilated. 

The imagination of the Saracens, ever lively 
and fond of attributing something supernatural 
to whatever was uncommon, gave rise in the 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD . 289 

Dark Ages to the legend that Alexander the 
great was the builder of the pharos, placing at the 
summit a mirror endowed with talismanic virtues. 
Such was its mystic power that it was said approach- 
ing ships, while still at a long distance, could see 
themselves reflected in this mirror. What was a yet 
more remarkable property of this magic reflector, 
and one that gave the Pharos a singular celebrity 
in those ages, was the circumstance that on the 
duration of this mirror was supposed to hang the 
existence of Alexandria. In our more practical age 
we can see that a certain degree of truth was 
involved in the legend. The continued existence 
of the Pharos implied the commercial prosperity of 
Alexandria ; while its destruction would seem to 
suggest a decline in the maritime trade of one of 
the great emporiums of antiquity. This interlink- 
ing of the fate of city and beacon-fire was empha- 
sized by the fact that the Pharos, situated as it was 
on the west side of the very narrow entrance to the 
port, served the double purpose of light-house and 
fortress, thus protecting the two dearest interests 
of the neighboring city. 

The building of the Pharos of Alexandria became 
the signal for the construction of many light-houses 
of somewhat elaborate character. That Carthage, 
the greatest purely maritime power of the ancient 
world, protected her mariners by light-houses is 
altogether likely, especially as the dockyards and 
mole of her port were of the most extensive and 
complete character. But that the Romans, after 


290 THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 

the fame of the Pharos of Alexandria became 
noised abroad, gave considerable attention to 
lighting the entrance to their harbors at least, 
is a fact of precise record, the generic name 
given by them to light-houses being borrowed 
from that of the original Pharos, as it has also been 
perpetuated by the Latin nations of modern times. 
Light-houses are mentioned at Caprea, Ostia, and 
Puteoli. One at Ravenna is stated to have 
equaled that of Alexandria in splendor. Nor did 
the Romans confine these hospitable structures 
only to the coasts of Italy, but with the wide, far- 
reaching, and beneficent policy which they followed 
in all their conquests, as soon as a country was fairly 
quiescent under their sway, the line of their costly 
light-houses extended from the Atlantic to the 
Euxine, from Britain to Pontus. Especially note- 
worthy among the light-houses of this mighty 
empire were those at the mouth of the Guadalquivir, 
near Gades ; at the mouth of the Chrysorhoas, on 
the coast of Syria ; at Rhodes ; on the Bosphorus ; 
and at Cyzicus, in the sea of Marmora. A fair 
indication this of the former commercial importance 
of Cyzicus, of which now but the merest fishing- 
village remains. 

Pompey’s Pillar, at Alexandria, singularly so 
called, for it was erected by Diocletian, is reputed 
to have served as a beacon. On the coast of 
Britain numerous light-houses, either simple or 
elaborate, were also erected by the Romans, of 
which in a few instances remains still exist. There 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 


291 


was one, for example, at Dover, and another on the 
opposite coast of France at Boulogne. The 
widely-spread diffusion of what*seems to have been 
an organized system of light-houses under govern- 
ment control is also evidenced by the designs of 
such structures still preserved on old Roman coins. 

At Gaireg, in Wales, we find still another relic of 
the Roman Empire and of the general beneficence 
of its rule. An old Roman light-house actually 
stands there to this day, intended originally to guide 
the mariner along the tortuous channel from Deva, 
or Chester, to Seteia Portus. It is circular, quite 
lofty, and the interior diameter is twelve and a half 
feet, while the extreme diameter is twenty-one feet. 
In the upper story, on the side exposed to the sea, 
are eight small square holes faced with free-stone. 
Each of these apertures was formerly separated 
from the others by strong partitions of wood, and a 
torch of fire was burned nightly in each compart- 
ment. The light was thus divided in order to pre- 
vent the light as a whole from appearing at a dis- 
tance like a star. The light-house at Dover seems 
to have been constructed very much after the same 
plan. Another Roman, or more likely Celtic, light- 
house appears to have stood on the height in the 
north of Wales now called Holyhead, but in former 
days named Peny Gaer Gybi, or Hill of Flames. 

About a league from Corunna, in Spain, one may 
still see the remains of another Roman light-house 
from a lofty height guiding the mariner tossed on 
the stormy waves of Biscay’s turbulent waters. The 


292 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD . 


form and position of this venerable structure, perhaps 
also other reasons of which the memory is forgotten, 
seems to have produced a strong impression upon 
the popular mind in bygone ages, for legends have 
been attached to it, and it is actually the subject of 
a chapter in that wild, grotesque, old-time romance 
called the “ Troy Boke,” forming the second section 
of that story. In that veracious chronicle it is 
recorded that Hercules built that light-house over 
the tomb of the giant Gerian whom he had slain, 
raising it in honor of the heroine Corogne. 
At the summit of the structure he fixed a statue of 
bronze, and in the hands placed a mirror which 
was indeed a safeguard to the city and adjacent 
territory, because, whenever a hostile fleet was 
approaching the coast, it was reflected in that won- 
derful mirror, and thus, its attack being anticipated, 
was baffled. 

The generous, far-sighted conduct of Rome in 
all that related to its commercial relations was again 
discernible in its system of light coast-guard gal- 
leys watching the sea with a cresset or flame at the 
mast-head. These vessels were of especial use at 
the time when corsairs swept the Mediterranean, 
destroying many ships, and obliging Pompey to 
exterminate them. It is not a little curious that 
his sons in turn should have become corsairs, and 
afflicted Rome after the death of their father. 
Stationary light-ships do not seem to have been 
employed, however, until the eighteenth century. 

When we come to a consideration of the times 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 293 

when Christianity became a dominating influence 
in the progress of civilization, we find that the con- 
vents and orders of monks which were so generally 
beneficent in those ages, being suited to the peculiar 
needs of a society that was passing from one con- 
dition to another, also assisted in devising means 
for the protection of the tempest-tossed mariner, 
and, when no light-houses existed, exhibited from 
the headlands on which their convents were situated, 
whether by the ocean-side or overlooking the 
devious Rhine, fires of wood or torches dipped in tar, 
for the benefit of galleys or. rafts. Thus at Sagres, 
on Cape St. Vincent, one of the wildest capes of 
Europe, forevermore lashed by the thundering 
surges of the Atlantic, the beacon flame of the 
friendly Fathers, composed of pine-fagots or torches 
suspended in an iron cage, warned the sailor to 
steer for the open sea. 

And thus the ages came and went. Commerce, 
after the fall of the Roman Empire, once more 
increased ; navigation became more scientific and 
daring than ever before ; the invention of the com- 
pass, and the construction of ships better adapted 
to buffet ocean-storms, brought with them also the 
growing necessity of devising means for increasing 
the safety of life and property ; methods of 
insuring ships were also introduced, a measure 
which had obtained vogue in the prosperous times 
of Greece and Rome, but had gradually died out, 
until Venice again brought it into practice. Thus, 
too, in the most natural manner, a more perfect 


294 THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD . 

system of lighting dangerous coasts became a ques- 
tion of vital importance to ship-owner and sailor, 
and the immediate results became evident in the 
construction of the magnificent Pharos of Genoa, 
erected on the mole of that port when that city of 
palaces and merchant princes and heroic admirals 
vied with Venice for the empire of the seas. Its 
style was elegant early Renaissance, and it soared 
and still soars three hundred and eighty-five feet 
above the water. 

About the same time, in the reign of Henry VII., 
England showed a disposition to co-operate in the 
benevolent enterprise of mitigating the perils of the 
seas by founding the corporation of the Elder 
Brethren of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, bet- 
ter known as the Trinity House, established for 
the purpose of piloting ships and lighting the 
coasts, and designed to have control of the shores 
and adjacent waters of England and Wales, a pious 
work which it maintains to this day, Scotland and 
Ireland having distinct light-house boards of their 
own. The Trinity House corporation consists of a 
master, a deputy-master, nineteen acting elder 
brethren, eleven honorary elder brethren, and an 
unlimited number of younger brethren. Their 
supervision does not, however, necessarily include 
the supervision of small, purely local light-houses 
or beacons, which are left to the care of the muni- 
cipal authorities. 

A century later we are not surprised to find that 
the subject of lighting coasts had reached such 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 295 

importance that the French crown, among numer- 
ous other important light-houses, constructed the 
Tower of Cordouan, which in hydraulic architect- 
ure holds a rank never surpassed in modern times. 
Other light-houses have, perhaps, been built since 
then, combining superior constructive qualities, 
but none that equal it in architectural cost- 
liness and elegance. It is fitting that a superb 
city like Bordeaux should have the approach to its 
magnificent quays guarded by a sentinel like that 
of Cordouan. 

Two leagues from the mouth of the Garonne lies 
a rock or reef some seven hundred feet long and 
nearly as broad at low water, but almost entirely 
covered at high tide. It is of the most dangerous 
character, and, after many an ill-fated bark had 
been lost on its cruel ledges, it was finally decided 
in the teeth of the elements to construct a light- 
house upon it. The task was undertaken during 
the reign of Henry II., in the year 1584, and was 
intrusted to Louis de Foix, the famous architect, 
who did not see it completed until 1610, in the 
reign of Henry IV. In consonance with the taste 
of the time, the builder adopted an ornate Renais- 
sance style for the plan of the light-house, and the 
result was a structure of great durability, elegance, 
and beauty, in which no expense was spared ; 
this led, however, to the practical observation that 
only an architect could have been so absurd as 
to lavish such moneys upon decorations that 
could be of no practical value when applied 


296 THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 

to a building so remote from public apprecia- 
tion. 

The tower is surrounded and protected from 
the surges of the ocean by a lofty, circular, and 
slightly-sloping wall of circumvallation, one hun- 
dred and thirty feet in diameter. The en- 
trance, which is on the south-east side, is through 
a passage let into the very massive masonry of 
this fortress-like wall ; and within it, like bomb- 
proof casemates, are also included the apartments 
of the four keepers. 

From the center of the inclosure springs the tower 
to a height of one hundred and eighty-six and one- 
half feet. The original elevation was one hundred 
and sixty-nine feet, which was increased in 1727 to 
the present height. The external appearance of 
the light-house is altogether contrary to the notion 
we generally have. of such a structure, being some- 
what pyramidal, the breadth of the base gradually 
tapering toward the summit, and with its cornices, 
pillars, statuary, and domed lantern, reminding one 
of a monument like the Hotel des Invalides at 
Paris. 

The first story contains a noble vaulted hall and 
two adjoining apartments, under which are the 
cellar, provisioned for six months, and the cistern 
provided with rain-water falling from the roof. 
Above the ground-floor, or rez du chaussie , is a floor 
called the Apartment of the King, containing an 
elegant vestibule, a large reception-hall, and side- 
offices. The third story includes a very ornate 


THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 297 

vaulted and gilded chapel, whose ceiling 
is checkered with marble panels. When the 
weather permitted, it was the custom in former 
times for a priest to cross over from the mainland 
and offer mass for sailors in this unique sanctuary. 
Among its other decorations are busts of Louis 
XIV. and Louis XV., and also of the architect of 
the light-house. 

In the fa£ade of the first story is a highly-orna- 
mented doorway, over which are carved the arms 
of France supported by statues of Mars and of a 
female, possibly a Nereid, holding a diadem and a 
branch of palm. In side-niches below are statues 
of Henry II. and Henry IV. A separate circular 
tower attached to the main structure incloses a 
stairway with a landing at each story, and thus the 
harmony of the various apartments is undisturbed 
by stairs or ladders. 

The Tower of Cordouan was first lighted by a 
coal-fire in an iron cage. As the heat gradually 
calcined and crumbled the walls, the lantern was 
leveled away in 1717, and the light was exhibited 
one story lower. But as this change, by reducing 
the distance of the radiation, caused much com- 
plaint, an iron lantern was again constructed, car- 
ried this time several feet above the first height of 
the tower, and the basin containing the candles 
that were substituted for a coal-fire was supported 
on a massive iron pillar. Various changes in the 
method of lighting the Tower of Cordouan have 
been employed from time to time since that period. 


298 THE LIGHT-HOUSES OF OLD. 

It is the first light-house that was ever furnished 
with a revolving light, and is now made effective in 
the wildest storms by a dioptric light of the first 
order. 

Next to the Tower of Cordouan, there is no 
light-house of modern civilization which takes prec- 
edence of the Eddystone in point of historic inter- 
est and importance. But it is, of course, not to be 
compared to that of Cordouan from an architect- 
ural point of view. The narrow foundation afforded 
by the rock on which it stands, the extreme diffi- 
culty of building there, and the thoroughly practi- 
cal, not to say prosaic, spirit which has character- 
ised Anglo-Saxon methods on this subject at least, 
cause the Eddystone Light-house to be interesting 
solely as a triumph of scientific engineering. 


THE 

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BY 

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a rhymed satire which was really written by Poe.” — George 
Parsons Lathrop in N. Y. Star , July 31, 1887. 

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